Like No One's Watching
by Andi88
Summary: Emma catches her mother dancing around the apartment. A OS of cavity-inducing mother/daughter fluff, inspired by the dance scene from Something Borrowed. More chapters! You asked for it. ;)
1. Push It!

**Waiting until April 21st is going to be the death of me! If you feel the same, or even if you don't, here's some mother/daughter bonding to get you through!**

**I got this idea from watching the movie Something Borrowed starring Ginnifer Goodwin and Kate Hudson. If you've seen it, then you know what dance scene I'm talking about, and if you've watched since being a Oncer, you probably wish like me that Snow and Emma could have that EXACT same scene! If you haven't seen it, you can find the video on Youtube which may help while reading this story to give you a bit of an idea of what these girls are doing. :)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Andi**

* * *

Sunday morning. Glorious, beautiful, wonderful Sunday morning. The morning in which Emma Swan did not have to awaken in the inhuman hour of dawn.

She'd been awake for about half an hour, trotted downstairs to brush her teeth, grab some coffee, kiss her kid goodbye before he went off for the day with his Gramps to the stables, and was back in her room trying to simply relax. Things in town were calm, (for the second) and she was thrilled to just sit around and be lazy.

It wasn't working out though, due to the very loud music that was suddenly coming from downstairs.

It wasn't the noise that was bothering her; Lord knew she could sleep through a hurricane in the middle of a Beastie Boys concert. (Growing up in group homes will have that effect.) She was really just curious, since her quiet little roommate wasn't prone to loud music. Like ever. But that didn't mean her fiery, outspoken mother wasn't.

Raising her hands in surrender, Emma slipped downstairs, still dressed in her PJ pants and tank top, to investigate.

The scene she found, whirling around the apartment, was one she wouldn't soon forget.

Mary Margaret was doing some cleaning, barefoot and also still in her sleepwear of her husband's oversized t-shirt. But she wasn't just mopping, she was twirling around the handle and singing loudly along to the radio, treating her mop like a microphone.

Emma crouched down on the stairs, hiding, and watched on in amusement and humor. She didn't even recognize the song playing, though she knew it was something from the 80s, but Mary Margaret sure knew it and was making her housework look like actual fun.

"Shootin' at the walls of heartache, bang, bang! I am the warrior. Well I am the warrior, and heart to heart you'll win if you survive…the warrior!"

Emma watched as Mary Margaret finished mopping and picked up a rag to start dusting, all the while shaking her hips and bouncing around gracefully – and sometimes not so gracefully.

She didn't allow herself to think about "what-ifs" often, useless as it was, but every great now and then, like now, she let her mind wander. Would this have been what it's like? Sunday mornings, her little self, running down the stairs to laugh at her mommy being silly while cleaning house. She probably would have joined in, probably wouldn't have been the stand-offish, self-conscious kid that she'd been, having been raised by someone like Snow White. She would have thought her mom was the coolest, prettiest, best dancer in the world.

Ah hell, she actually did. Not that she'd ever say that out loud.

The song changed, and Mary Margaret giggled without stopping her dusting, and started up singing the new song as well. Emma recognized this one, actually she knew it by heart, and found her face betraying her humor.

"Ooh baby, baby, b-baby, baby," Mary Margaret sang, rotating her pelvis as her dancing turned into something kind of suggestive, but knowing her the way that she did, it was too cute and comical to be anything close to sexy, not as far as Emma was concerned. She covered her mouth with her hand so not to draw attention to herself. Where was her camera when she needed it? "Ow! Baby! Salt and Pepa' here! Now wait a minute, y,all…"

Emma couldn't hold it in. She bust out a loud chuckle just as Mary Margaret gyrated past the stairs. Mary Margaret jumped and spun to face her, blushing slightly. "H…hi! Sorry, is the music too loud?"

Emma shook her head, eyes twinkling. "Nope, no, carry on."

Mary Margaret propped a hand on one hip and quirked an eyebrow. "Could use some help if you're not busy."

Flushing – yeah, it would be nice of her to help clean – Emma hopped up from her hiding spot and grabbed another rag and a can of furniture polish while Mary Margaret grinned approvingly and cranked up the music, resuming her one-woman show as if Emma wasn't very obviously watching.

Emma tried to focus on polishing the table, but she just couldn't stop watching and smiling as Mary Margaret's dancing got more elaborate and her singing got louder, as if she was showing off to her daughter.

"…Coolin' by day then at night workin' up a sweat," Mary Margaret pumped her elbow down toward her side, grinning mischievously and eyeing Emma from the corner of her eye. "C'mon girls, let's go show the guys that we know," Mary Margaret was sashaying toward her, and Emma took a step back, but not fast enough to evade the capture of both her hands. "How to become number one in a hot party show! Now push it."

Mary Margaret let go of only one of Emma's hands, standing beside her and doing some footwork that was really quite impressive. Where did she learn this? Surely not as her cursed self, and it was very much from this this world.

Emma didn't dance. Well okay, once upon a time she danced. Once upon a time dancing was the one thing she loved. But not now, and certainly not in her pajamas in the living room with her mother.

And yet, as if unbidden, as if the song was a curse that she couldn't deny, the words of innuendo that she wasn't even positive Mary Margaret totally got came out of her mouth and suddenly she was singing, or lip-syncing really, and hesitantly but easily mimicking Mary Margaret's moves.

"Push it, push it, push it good. Ah push it, p-push it real good…"

Mary Margaret's grin seemed to take up the entire room and she threw her hands above her head, bumping Emma's hips with her own.

HELL with it!

Emma threw herself into it, singing to the top of her lungs and bounding about the room with an abandon she couldn't remember ever having.

"Ooh baby, baby! B-baby baby! Ooh baby, baby, b-baby baby!"

Mary Margaret laughed loudly and happily when Emma hopped onto the coffee table, throwing her hair into her face and pointing at her. Mary Margaret took the challenge and jumped onto the couch shaking her shoulders and pointing back at her daughter.

"Yo, yo, yo, yo, baby-pop, yeah, you come here, gimme a kiss. Better make it fast or else I'm gonna get pissed…"

Emma and Mary Margaret jumped back and forth from the couch to the (luckily solid oak) coffee table, swapping places, until the both ended up on the coffee table.

This was when, totally unnoticed by them, David and Henry walked in, David having forgotten his wallet. The boys froze at the door; neither certain what they were seeing was really happening.

"Can't you hear the music's pumpin' hard like I wish you would?"

Both women made a vaguely provocative but playful move toward each other that David hoped Henry didn't understand.

Emma looked at Mary Margaret, and they nodded at one another, a silent agreement, and they leapt from the table and launched into their dance from before, this time surprisingly in-sync with each other, almost like they'd rehearsed it.

"Now push it! Push it good, p-push real good!"

David saw his wallet on the little table right next to the door, and grabbed it along with Henry and backed hurriedly out the door.

"Hey, wait, that was funny!" Henry stage-whispered once the door was quietly shut. "Let's watch!"

"Nah," David said, smiling adoringly at the door where his wife and baby girl were being carefree and playful together on the other side, in a way none of them had been able to in so long. He knew that the sight of him and Henry would embarrass Emma, and ruin their fun, and he didn't want that. "Let them have their dance party, but we can hold it over their heads later!"

Henry grinned wickedly and they took off down the stairs to go out and have some guy fun.

The song ended right as Mary Margaret stumbled, nearly falling on her face. Emma reached out to catch her, but she couldn't keep her balance and they both ended up a laughing pile on the floor.

They sat like that for the longest time, arms around each other, laughing hysterically. A couple times they tried and failed to stand up, making them laugh even harder, until they had tears running down their faces and were gasping for breath.

"Don't…don't tell Henry we jumped on the furniture!" Mary Margaret managed between giggles and hiccups. "I tell him all the time not do that!"

Emma was laughing and smiling so much it made her cheeks hurt. She was sadly unused to so much…happiness. "Can we just not tell him or David about this period?"

"Deal! David would use it to blackmail us if he knew!"

Slowly but surely, the laughter quieted until it was just the occasional left-over chuckle. They were still tangled up on the floor, arms around the other's shoulders, leaning against the kitchen counter. Mary Margaret made no move to change their position, and though Emma was just realizing their very close proximity, after a moment's thought she decided not to move either. Instead she tightened her hold and leaned her head on her mother's shoulder. The song playing was a slower one that Emma started mumbling along to.

"…You have my heart, and we'll never be worlds apart…"

Mary Margaret sighed. "Haven't had that much fun in…" she blinked. "Well honestly? Outside of fighting ogres and things that can get me killed…I can't remember."

Emma huffed. "Me neither. I don't think I've…_ever_ just cut loose like that."

Mary Margaret squeezed Emma's shoulder, and Emma lifted her hand to take her mother's. Too tired to even move, they quietly began singing along with the song together. In the back of her mind, Emma was a little surprised Mary Margaret knew it.

"When the sun shines we'll shine together, told you I'll be here forever, said I'll always be a friend, took an oath I'm 'a stick it out till the end. Now that it's raining more than ever, know that we'll still have each other, you can stand under my umbrella, you can stand under my umbrella…"

"Did you…" Mary Margaret began suddenly. "I mean, have you ever been a dancer? You're really good, Emma."

Emma smirked. "Eh, I took lessons sometimes when I was a kid. A lot of youth centers and some of the group homes I stayed in gave lessons for free. Ballet, hip hop."

"You like to dance?"

"Mmhmm. I did."

"You're a beautiful dancer."

Emma looked at her mother, finding that the compliment was genuine and not just Mary Margaret trying to make her feel good. "Thank you. What about you? You're good too."

Mary Margaret smiled. "All princesses are taught to dance. I was honestly never very good, or at least I didn't think I was. The waltzes they taught us were lovely but made me feel stiff and awkward. And then I went to a dance in a village with Red when we were in hiding and the music was fast and loud and like nothing I'd ever heard, and that was when I realized I truly loved to dance."

"So I guess I would have been taught to waltz too, huh?"

"Hmm, yes, of course," Mary Margaret's eyes sparkled. "But I would have made sure you knew what it felt like to dance like no one is watching."

Emma smiled warmly, thinking that she already had.

They missed out on a lot in each other's lives. But it wasn't too late. Emma thought that maybe the quirk in the curse that made her own parents her age was actually a gift. Sure, it was kind of strange at times, but now they had that much more time together to get to know each other, to be the family they'd both wanted their entire lives.

They could be a mother and daughter, and they could also be the best friend the other ever had. And they could be a couple of silly kids dancing around in the pajamas.

The song changed again and Emma's eyes flew open wide and she jolted upright, unable to resist this one.

"Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want…"

Mary Margaret grinned wide. "So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!"

Energy renewed, the girls jumped to their feet to get back to cleaning the apartment. It took a lot longer than it probably should have, since they did more playing than any actual work, but that was perfectly okay by them.

So long as David and Henry didn't find out.

* * *

**Even though I think by the lyrics you'll know what these songs are, in case you're wondering the playlist for this fic:**

**Warrior - Patti Smith**

**Push It - Salt-n-Pepa**

**Umbrella - Rihanna**

**Wannabe - Spice Girls**

**:)**


	2. Boys Will be Boys

**See what you guys have done? I got so many requests for a continuation with Henry and David making fun of Emma and MM, it got my plot bunnies hopping! What's more is they didn't stop...and after this I came up with 2 more chapters and ideas for more. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY! Heehee. :D**

**So here ya go, I hope this doesn't disappoint. And hold tight, because there's more shameless fluff to come!**

**For visualization purposes, the dance that David and MM teach Henry and Emma is the one that everyone was doing at Cinderella's ball.**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

"Gramps!" Henry called, barely able to speak through his giggling. "You're never gonna believe this!"

David was reclining on the couch, reading the paper, (and now every time he did his heart swelled because Emma had once walked by while he was reading it and commented jokingly that he looked like "such a dad" sitting there. It had made his week.) He glanced up to see his grandson standing in front of him, holding their laptop and nearly bouncing with glee. "What's up?" he asked, folding up the paper.

Henry looked around, but Emma and Mary Margaret were in the kitchen fixing dinner, so he lowered his voice. "Remember the other day when you forgot your wallet?"

David smirked. How could he have forgotten? "Yeah."

Henry checked that the girls were still occupied and talking to one another before plopping down on the couch beside his grandfather, opening up the laptop as he spoke. "Well, that morning I was playing with the camera on this thing. Grams had said she didn't even realize it had one. Well, I guess I forgot to turn it off, and today when I went to watch the video I had made, I found THIS!"

The volume was turned off, and Henry fast forwarded past his goofy self making faces into the camera and a long while of nothing but the living room. And then it happened; Emma jumped onto the coffee table, followed by Mary Margaret jumping onto the couch and then they were dancing just the way they were when he and Henry had walked in, like a couple of teenage girls. Because of the position of the laptop, it was recording them perfectly from in front of them when they jumped off the coffee table and went into their choreographed number.

David's mouth was agape. "I can't _believe _you got this! This is PRICELESS!" Henry beamed.

"What's priceless?" Mary Margaret asked from the kitchen.

"Uh…" David stammered.

"It's this funny video," Henry explained.

Mary Margaret smiled. "You'll have to show it to us later."

"We will!" Henry promised, exchanging a conspiring look with his Gramps.

"No," David whispered. "I have an even BETTER idea…"

* * *

It took a couple days to get it perfect, and hours of watching that video. Henry had wanted to post it to YouTube, but David didn't think making anything involving them public to the world was a great idea at that point, and Henry reluctantly agreed.

They waited until the perfect time, when Emma and Mary Margaret had gone out grocery shopping together, to get everything prepared.

"They should be home any minute," David called, dragging the coffee table so that it was facing the door. "Are you ready?"

Henry ran down the stairs, dressed in his pajamas, same as his Gramps, even though it was almost dinner time. "Ready! Think you'll remember it this time? Remember, right foot first!"

"I got it down!" David said, rolling his eyes. "Go look out the window and see if Emma's car's here yet."

Henry went to the window to keep a lookout while David set up the laptop to play the video.

"Her car just pulled up!" Henry yelled. "We have about a minute and a half! Let Operation Make Fun of Mom and Grams commence!"

Henry climbed onto the coffee table while David hovered near the laptop, ready to push the play button. As soon as he heard the keys jingling in the lock, he hit play and rushed to Henry's side on the table.

When Emma and Mary Margaret came through the door, they were greeted by a sudden blast of music and their guys jumping off the misplaced coffee table with exaggeratedly feminine kicks of their feet.

"Push it! Push it good! Push it! P-push it real good!"

Henry and David were copying Emma and Mary Margaret's dance – badly. All the while they could barely keep up with the music for laughing so hard.

Mary Margaret's mouth was nearly on the floor, she turned wide eyes to Emma, who was pointing at the computer screen.

It was THEM! Dancing! How on earth had they managed to record it?!

The video ended and Henry and David were bent almost in half, laughing. Cackling really.

"What on earth?!" Mary Margaret began, and looked at Emma again. She was worried that this would humiliate her, even though the boys were only having fun. But Emma's eyes were shining with barely concealed mirth while her mouth was set in a straight line.

"I especially liked this:" David said, shimmying his shoulders the way Mary Margaret had done.

"Or how about my mom?" Henry chortled, waving his hands around his head, pantomiming having long hair to shake around.

"You bastards," Emma pretended to seethe, but the corners of her mouth were twitching.

"Hey, at least I didn't let Henry post in online!" David gasped, one arm around his grandson who was still doubled over.

"I think maybe we should show it at the next town meeting!" Henry threatened, grinning dangerously.

"I'm sorry," Mary Margaret said in perfect sweetness. "Do you _want_ to die?"

"Ah, come on," David cajoled. "It was adorable! And you have to admit, we were pretty adorable too."

Mary Margaret scoffed. "Yeah, honey, I think you need to work on it some more."

Emma had her arms crossed, and Henry went up to her, looking somewhat nervous. "You're not mad, are you, Mom?"

Emma didn't answer, just walked over to the computer.

"No Emma, don't erase it!" David yelled.

"Yeah, Mom, don't!"

But Emma wasn't erasing anything, she just went to YouTube and turned on a different song and cranked up the volume.

"_Hey…Ho…"_

Turning around, she gave Henry a mischievous smile of her own and grabbed his hands, yanking him back into the living room to dance with him.

"_I belong with you, you belong with me you're my sweetheart…_"

Henry's laugh was almost louder than the music, and Emma's smile could have lit up the night.

Mary Margaret grinned up at her husband victoriously, pleased that their mission to aggravate them had failed, at least for the moment.

"May I have this dance?" he asked in his most "charming" manner.

Mary Margaret placed her hand in his and let him lead her onto the "dance floor."

"_So show me family, all the blood that I would bleed…_"

With no technique and little rhythm, the family whirled around the living room. Feeling sneaky, Mary Margaret released David's and after taking Emma's hand and twirling her around, she craftily switched partners, taking Henry's hands instead.

Emma froze, realizing what her mother had done.

Holding his hand out to his daughter the way he had his wife, David smiled hopefully.

And damn it if his puppy-dog eyes were as bad as her mother's and son's. Emma took his hand and let him pull her into a jerky, bouncy, awkward dance, one hand in his and the other on his shoulder, while his spare hand was situated at her waist.

"_Love, we need it now, let's hope for some…"_

It took a minute, but Emma found herself relaxing again. It wasn't uncomfortable to be in her father's arms as she thought it would be. In fact, it was kind of nice. She felt…safe.

Mary Margaret and Henry looked over and then smiled at one another.

The song ended and the family laughed some more. Without thinking, Emma leaned into David for one-sided a hug, which he quickly and happily returned.

"This is fun!" Henry exclaimed.

"Yeah, it is, Kid," Emma said, grinning.

David looked at his wife. "What do you say we teach these two a few things from back home?"

Mary Margaret looked as if she were thinking it over, then nodded. "Think you remember? It _has_ been almost thirty years."

"Ah, come on, it's like riding a bike!"

Mary Margaret found some appropriately timed classical music online and she and David attempted to show Emma and Henry one of the group dances they'd learned back in the Enchanted Forest.

Emma shook her head in fascination. It was similar to what she'd seen in movies taking place in Victorian times. She could easily envision Mary Margaret in a long, elegant ball gown as she twirled happily around her husband. Emma thought she'd never seen anyone look as beautiful.

David struggled more than he'd bragged about at first, forgetting the hand movements and almost stepping on his wife's feet. But eventually he got the hang of it again and it was like they moved with one mind.

"You try," he told his daughter and grandson.

Giggling, Henry bowed to Emma and courtly held out his hand. Though she had no interest in learning to dance that way, she could no sooner refuse her kid's hand when he looked at her that way than she could refuse a cup of cocoa with cinnamon.

She attempted an awkward curtsy, (didn't turn out so well) and she and Henry tried to copy the flowing, graceful dance.

"Wonderful, Emma!" Mary Margaret praised. "You really catch on fast!"

Emma gave a little smile, unwilling to show just how happy her mother's praise made her.

"How do you all make it look so easy?" Henry grumbled, stumbling over his own feet.

"It takes practice, buddy," David said. "Keep your head up, and your shoulders back."

Henry still wasn't getting it, so David intervened, trying to reposition the boy's hands and feet. "I made the same mistakes at first, you just have to try to remember that you're the one supposed to be leading, not her."

Emma made a raspberry sound.

Mary Margaret giggled and held up her hands to Emma. "Come on then, you can lead me."

While Emma and Mary Margaret were dancing, (Emma decided she liked leading, thankyouverymuch,) David had somehow ended up in the female's position with Henry, still trying to instruct him on where to put his feet.

Mary Margaret nudged Emma, jerking her head toward to the boys. Emma bit back a laugh at how they looked dancing around while attempting to look graceful and looking like a couple of bumbling puppies. David had his head held exaggeratedly high, which Henry was mimicking. Now they looked like they were trying to look up each other's noses.

Emma pulled Mary Margaret and, without stopping their dance, led her over to the still open laptop and while the guys were occupied with each other, she turned on the camera. Then she spun Mary Margaret to the side and out of the camera's view.

It got better.

Henry and David were giving up on trying to really learn, and were beginning to spin around flamboyantly with exaggerated and hilariously girly movements.

The music playing on the laptop stopped, so Henry started belting out an ear-grating rendition of "Once Upon a Dream," followed soon by his grandfather.

"…I know you, that gleam in your eye is so familiar a dream!"

"This is the greatest thing I've ever seen in my life," Emma whispered to Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret nodded emphatically. "This is literally making my year right now."

Once the cackling boys quieted down, Emma discreetly turned off the camera before they could notice. Mother and daughter shared a secret smile.

* * *

A few days later, Emma walked into Granny's to find everyone crowded around the counter, snickering at something she couldn't see.

Mary Margaret stood near the back and looked up when she saw her, smiling apologetically.

Emma had been prepared, so she wasn't upset and only mildly embarrassed to see that everyone was watching her and her mother dance on a laptop screen. David and Henry stood nearby victoriously.

"Ow, look'it you, Mary Margaret!" Ruby exclaimed. "Some sexy moves right here!"

"Who knew she had it in her?" Archie asked.

"I did," both Ruby and Leroy replied at once, causing David to cast them both and his wife a puzzled and slightly concerned look. Then he caught sight of Whale nodding in eager agreement and Red had to grab his sleeve to restrain him.

"I'm a little more focused on Emma here," Granny laughingly said. "Look at her go! Don't think I've ever seen her move that fast except when she's trying to hurt someone!"

When Leroy realized Emma was standing behind them, he held his fists out in front of him in a dorky little boogie with his eyebrows raised and a playful grin on his face.

"Shut it, Leroy," Emma said, narrowing her eyes.

"Emma!" Ruby exclaimed. "Oh my God, I didn't know you could dance! We all have to go out dancing sometime!"

"There is a…dance club in Storybrooke?" Emma asked, eyes wide with worry.

Ruby looked at her as if that were a silly question. "There _can _be."

"The end!" Henry cried happily as the video stopped. "Who wants to see it again?!"

Everyone's hands went up, but Emma elbowed her way through the crowd. "But wait guys," she said in faux innocence. "I have a video to show you, too!"

Mary Margaret snorted from her spot in the back of the crowd. David and Henry exchanged puzzled looks.

Emma found the video she was looking for, and stepped aside to let everyone see the movie of David and Henry dancing together.

Which everyone found even more hilarious.

"Wha…" Henry stammered. "How?!"

"Think you're the only sneaky one, kid?" Emma winked.

David turned his shocked expression to his wife. "You tricked us!"

Mary Margaret bit her lower lip to keep from laughing more and ducked behind Anton with a squeak.

"That does it!" Ruby yelled. "We SO need a dance in this town!"

"Good luck getting me there," Emma mumbled.

When the video was over and everyone was done poking fun at the Von-Charming Family Dancers , Emma found Henry leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

"Ah Kid, don't tell me you're mad," she said, starting to feel a little bad.

"I don't ever wanna go to a dance," he pouted. "I looked stupid."

Emma grinned. "No you didn't, and just think, if you practice and get really good, all of the girls in town are going to love you. Everyone loves a boy who dances, especially if he doesn't worry about what everyone else thinks of him."

Henry smirked. "So if Ruby throws a dance, you'll come and dance with me and not worry about people watching you?"

Emma's mouth dropped as she realized she'd been duped.

"You're good, Kid. Real good."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "It's in my blood."


	3. The Great Photo War

**I'm really not entirely sure what's happening to this story. It's kind of taken on a life of it's own. Here we have mother/daughter Smackdown, and a bit of bittersweet flufferness. **

**Two notes, A) as in most of my fics, when it's in Emma's POV Snow is referred to as Mary Margaret. When it's in Snow's POV, she is Snow. Get it? But eventually I want to get her down to just Snow...because it's easier to type. :P and B) Ahead be a use of the F-Word. But since it's just one, I think this can keep it's T rating. Besides, I think you're going to like it's usage!**

**Read on!**

* * *

Well, it was happening.

Ruby had gained enough support in her idea to throw a dance that the town was going to be holding the first annual Spring Ball. It was going to be held outside in a wide clearing near the edge of town (but safely away from the border, of course.)

Dancing with her mother was fun, dancing with her father and son was kind of fun also. Everyone seeing her dancing in a video was awkward, but manageable.

_Going_ to a dance? Another matter completely.

"I don't waaaant to…" Emma whined pathetically, draped across her bed like a mopey pre-teen. "Do I have to?"

Mary Margaret was digging in Emma's closet, trying to see if she had anything suitable for the ball.

"Oh stop it," she said, not completely unable to keep the irritation out of her voice. She loved her daughter more than life itself, but sometimes she could be just plain unreasonable. "You're acting like a child. You've said yourself that you _love _to dance. Surely when you took lessons it involved recitals when you had to dance in front of people…" she trailed off, suddenly imagining a tiny blonde angel, twirling onstage in a pink tutu.

Emma sat up, catching the change in Mary Margaret's tone. "A couple," she said, gently, aware of where her mother's train of thought was going. "But that was different, I was a kid. Since I've been older I don't like dancing in front of people, and I seriously don't like parties. Plus I bet you're gonna make me dress up."

Mary Margaret snapped out of her musings and shook her head at her. "Of _course _you'll dress up! You're a gorgeous woman, it wouldn't hurt you to dress like one occasionally.

"I dress like a woman!" Emma exclaimed, somewhat offended. "I'm sorry if my life just doesn't call for a prom dress that often! Look, there, see? I have a dress!"

Mary Margaret followed Emma's pointing finger to the slinky red dress shoved in the back of the closet.

She pulled it out with raised eyebrows and whistled. "Did this even manage to cover everything?"

"Yes! And I rocked it, too! WHILE chasing down a bail jumper!"

"Chasing down…do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

Mary Margaret sighed. "Well, try it on for me, is it the only dress you own?"

"Yeah," Emma shrugged, pulling off her clothes. "I told you, I've never had much need for dresses. The only reason I got that one was because I was pretending to on a blind date with a bail jumper and I needed him distracted enough so I could lower his defenses," at that she grinned. "It worked. Till the bastard tossed the table at me. I got the wine stain out though…"

Emma frowned as she reached behind her to pull the zipper. "It's stuck," she muttered.

Mary Margaret ran around her to help. "Not stuck, sweetie, it's too tight."

"Too…the hell?! It fit just fine a year ago!"

"As what? A second skin?"

Emma scowled and looked in the mirror. It looked the same to her in the front, but Mary Margaret was right, the back didn't quite close up enough to zip, no matter how much she sucked in her breath.

Mary Margaret looked somewhat relieved. Emma caught her grimacing at the dress's short hemline.

"There isn't anything I should _know_, is there?" Mary Margaret asked, her eyes twinkling.

Emma frowned, not knowing what she meant at first until it hit her. "Oh, God, no! Like as in, not even physically possible!"

Mary Margaret laughed. "I was _kidding_! Calm down, so you've gained a little weight. No big deal."

"I blame you," Emma complained.

"Me? Why? What did I do?"

"All this past year you've been feeding and feeding me! All those delicious meals that I couldn't possibly refuse! Not to mention the hot chocolate!"

Mary Margaret scrunched up her nose. "Well, for_give_ me! In all honesty I think you look better now than you did when you first moved in. You were too skinny back then."

Emma smirked and relieved herself of the dress she didn't really like anyway. She didn't actually care about gaining weight, and she probably _had _been too skinny back then since mealtimes for her back then were more of an inconvenience than anything.

"I was kidding, Mare," she said gently. "I appreciate all the meals you make for me."

Mary Margaret smiled. "I know you do. So, does this mean we get to go shopping?"

Emma's shoulders sagged. "Do we _have _to?"

Mary Margaret put her hands on her hips. "Either we both go and you try some things on until we find something you like, or I go for you and you have to wear whatever I come home with!"

"Okay, okay," she relented. "You win. We'll go tomorrow!"

Mary Margaret nodded triumphantly and took the red dress to hang back up. While Emma flopped back down onto the bed with a melodramatic huff, she found a small box in the floor of the closet and pulled it out to see what was inside. Probably things from Emma's old apartment she never got around to unpacking.

It was mostly papers and old documents and Mary Margaret lifted up a birth certificate like it was made of gold.

She ran her hands lovingly over the name which read simply, Emma, (no Swan at that point,) but frowned sadly at the blank spaces where hers and David's names should have been.

She continued to dig, hoping to unearth a photo of some kind. She had one picture of Emma when she was six that had come from the file she'd carried around with her most of her life, along with the faded newspaper clipping with her beautiful baby's face. Emma had removed the "Deadbeat Parents" headline, but not before Mary Margaret had seen it and cried, only because she was reminded again what Emma was forced to think all those years.

Her search was successful, and she pulled out an old, wrinkled picture of a darling little girl of about fourteen, dressed in – she couldn't believe it – a violet, knee-length party dress with a dark purple flower attached to the sash. The skirt flowed out with ruffles hanging from the bottom and the sleeves were slightly poofy. Her hair was done up in a pretty bun and she held the arm of a cute little boy who stood a head shorter than her. She couldn't contain her glee.

"Emma! Emma! Look what I found!" like a child she bounced onto her knees on the bed, holding the photo out for her to see.

"What…where did you find that?" Emma asked, staring at the picture in horror.

"In that box over there," she pointed.

"Who gave you permission to go through my stuff?"

Mary Margaret shrugged unapologetically. "I plead Mother."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine. I don't even know why I kept that."

"Did you go to a school dance?"

She sighed. "Yeah. It was my eighth grade dance. That was my foster brother going with me," she glanced at the picture again. "Lord that dress is hideous."

Mary Margaret cradled the picture as if she were cradling the child in it. "I think you look beautiful."

"Course you do, now can you put it back now?"

Mary Margaret gasped. "No! Oh no, I'm framing this one."

"You. Wouldn't. Dare."

Mary Margaret raised her eyes, and Emma saw in them that same mischievous little imp that pulled her into dancing that day. Uh oh.

"Mary Margaret, give me the picture!"

Mary Margaret held it behind her back. "Not a chance. This is mine now."

"Serious, Mare! I really don't like that picture! It's awful! Give it back!

Her mother grew a tad more serious. "Why is it awful? Does it have any bad memories? Was this boy mean?"

Emma knew why she was asking those questions, knowing there were things in Emma's past she wanted to forget. Unfortunately there was nothing about this picture that dredged up any of her bad memories, probably why she never threw it away. "No," she admitted reluctantly. "Kyle was my friend."

The imp was back. "Then no dice! This is mine! Mine forever! Ha!" with that she was off the bed and out the door before Emma could even move.

She chased her mother down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Give it!"

"Make me!" Mary Margaret yelled.

"NOW who's acting like a child?"

Mary Margaret seemed to ponder that before answering. "I know you are, but what am I?"

"Seriously?!"

Emma charged after her mother, but the other woman lithely hopped out of reach each time, laughing maniacally. This didn't even seem like Mary Margaret to Emma at all. This was full on Snow White.

Emma chased her around and around the kitchen counter, yelling every obscenity she could think of.

"Where did you learn such language?" Mary Margaret exclaimed. "You would make Leroy blush!"

Emma finally cornered her against the front door. "The cursing was supposed to startle you into submission."

She blinked innocently and spoke in a soft voice. "What the fuck do you mean?"

Emma's jaw dropped. Did sweet little Snow Margaret seriously just say the F word?! Emma was so shocked that Mary Margaret was able to dart past her, giggling all the while.

Growling in irritation, Emma tore after her again, this time hurdling over the couch to catch her by the shirt and pulling her to the floor, pinning her legs under her knees.

"Ha!" she cheered. "Gotcha! Now hand the damn picture over!"

Mary Margaret smiled so sweetly that Emma paused, trying not to be intimidated. It was difficult.

"Emma, dearest, you know how much I love you. But have you forgotten who you're dealing with here?"

She let Emma dwell on that a second. Emma furrowed her brow, but then she remembered Mulan and…oh shit.

Before she could even think, Mary Margaret was kicking Emma off of her and rolling them so that Emma was now pinned.

"Ow!" Emma cried, hoping that being in pain would gain her mercy.

"You asked for it!" Mary Margaret giggled.

"Okay, okay, I give. Lemme up!"

Mary Margaret's lips quirked smugly and she backed off to allow Emma to stand. But Emma hadn't surrendered, not by a long shot. Forgetting all about not trying to hurt her, Emma tackled the schoolteacher with every ounce of strength she had.

David opened the front door, then froze, opening it slightly wider so Henry could see.

David's wife and Henry's mother were rolling around on the floor like a couple of young boys, wrestling over something clutched in Mary Margaret's hand. It looked vicious…and violent. Mary Margaret was currently trapping Emma under her once more.

David knew that look in his wife's eyes, he'd seen in many a time in battle. And the time he was stupid enough to challenge her to a sword fight. And if he knew his daughter well enough, this was going to end in pain.

And damned if he was going to get in the middle of it. He quietly shut the door again.

"Gramps, why does this keep happening?"

"Not sure, Kid, but what I do know is once again, it's best to just let them have at it. I don't suppose you left the laptop camera on again?"

"No, sorry, but hey, maybe you can snap a picture with your phone!"

David considered it, but then heard an enraged howl followed by breaking glass.

"No Henry, I think this time we should just pretend this never happened. Come on, looks like it's Granny's for dinner."

"The hell are you hiding your strength?" Emma yelled, trying and failing to push Mary Margaret off of her. "You're built like a willow tree!"

"That's why no one ever sees me coming!" Mary Margaret said.

"Do you even remember why the hell we're fighting?"

Mary Margaret tilted her head to one side in thought then she blinked with realization and held up the picture.

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Oh yeah," she managed to wiggle out of Mary Margaret's grasp and got to her feet while her mother did the same, taking off like a bolt.

Emma laughed. "You know, I'm going to hurt tomorrow, but this absurdly fun."

Mary Margaret grinned. "I know. And your father would never play with me like this. Said I was too rough."

Emma shook her head. "Men," she ran after her again, grabbing a pillow off the couch and chucking it at her.

Mary Margaret yelped and dodged the pillow, but was hit with a second squarely in the face. She ran back up the stairs with Emma on her heels and flew into Emma's bedroom

Once they were in the room, Emma dove and grabbed Mary Margaret by the legs, making her fly forward to luckily land on the bed.

"Uncle, uncle," Mary Margaret gasped. "You got me!"

Panting, Emma released her legs and crawled along the floor until she reached her bed the climbed up onto it.

"You can have the picture," she moaned, exhausted.

"How about a compromise?" Mary Margaret asked. "I can have it, in a frame, but I'll keep it in my room where only your father and I can see it?"

Emma thought about that then smiled. "Okay, that sounds fair."

Laying on her back, Mary Margaret held the photo in front of her face. "It _is_ a rather ugly dress."

Emma leaned up on one elbow. "Hey!"

"But the girl _in_ the dress makes it work!" she amended with a happy smile. "I love seeing pictures of you Emma, I love learning all there is to _know_ about you. I know I should have been there…"

"Don't," Emma said softly. "What's past is past. All we can do now keep moving forward."

She nodded. "I know. But rest assured I would have seen to it that you would have been dressed _much _more stylishly."

"That's the sad part," Emma droned. "That dress _was _stylish."

They lay like that for a while, when Emma suddenly remembered something. "I wonder…"

She rolled off the bed and started rummaging under it.

"What are you looking for?"

Emma grunted, half her body under the bed. "I think…I think I still have it. I had left it at the last group home I was in, but Mrs. Paul…the house mother, sent it to me along with a few other personal belongings I'd managed to hang on to over the years after I got out of prison. When I got out of the system, I was on the street for a while, so all I kept with me was my blanket. I refused to ever let it go."

Mary Margaret was leaning her head over the side of the bed, frowning. She knew Emma had lived on the street, and she knew in a way what that was like, and also knew that in _that _world it must have been much worse. She'd never wanted her child to live that life. "It was nice of Mrs. Paul to send you your things."

Emma chuckled. "Yeah, I liked Mrs. Paul. She wanted to help me, but when I was fifteen I was too old for her group home and was back in foster care. I ran when I was seventeen though, and she sent me money when she could afford it," she emerged from under the bed with a shoebox, and when she opened it up she let out a triumphant shout. "Aha! I DO still have it! I had forgotten all about this until tonight!" she held up a VHS tape. "Do you have a VCR?"

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. "This is Storybrooke. Your sheriff's office has a rotary phone. Of course I have a VCR."

* * *

Snow dug under her own bed for her VCR and watched Emma hook it up to the TV. She sat on the couch in nervous excitement that she was trying to hide, anxious to know what was on the tape. Was it Emma? Would she actually get to see her child, hear her speak? She twirled her ring and fought the urge to fidget.

Emma sat on the couch beside her. "Here's hoping it still works," she used the remote to press play.

At first there was nothing but static and fuzzy, indiscernible images, and Snow's heart began to sink, but then the picture cleared and she saw a crowd of people sitting in front of a stage. The person taking the video was near the front, so there was a clear shot of the curtain opening to reveal a row of young girls in white leotards and long, delicate white skirts.

Snow's eyes scanned the children hurriedly and almost instantly landed on a stunning little blonde on the far right side. Her eyes filled with tears as she took in the tilt of her head, the determined concentration in her big, blue eyes, the graceful pose of her arms.

The music began and – how appropriate – it was Swan Lake. And how like a swan her little Emma looked, flitting about the stage like she was weightless.

Snow covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob. She'd never seen anything more beautiful in all her life. _Either _of them. She frowned however when the camera kept focusing on another little girl, who hadn't half the talent and natural ability of her Emma.

"That was my foster sister," Emma said very quietly. "It was the only time I was ever given real dance lessons in a studio. The only time I had a real, what I considered "fancy" recital. Don't worry, they gave me flowers and made me feel just as special as Heather. They were probably the nicest family I had."

Snow couldn't tear her eyes away, silently cursing the foster father every time Emma wasn't in the shot. "How old were you?" she whispered.

"Eight. But wait, I think you'll like what's next."

As the camera followed Heather around the stage, it caught her slipping and crashing into another girl who crashed into another girl…who crashed into another girl, sending them all falling to the floor.

Heather looked up, her eyes wide in horror, and Snow felt a pang of sympathy for the child. The other girls were struggling to get up, some crying, and the dance teacher was running out to help them.

The music was still playing, and the foster parents sounded like they were about to get up to help their daughter, but just as Heather was about to burst into tears, Emma, one of the few still standing, helped her to her feet. She then grabbed both her hands and started spinning her around in a circle.

Heather looked confused at first, but then she started to laugh. Emma released her and ran to each of the other girls, helping them up and spinning them around in turn. The teary eyed children watched in wonder and admiration as Emma grinned widely at the audience and began her own dance. She hopped around and shook her arms, still keeping in time to the music, but then it changed, someone decided to put on something happier and the auditorium was filled with "_Do You Believe in Magic?"_

Snow laughed through her renewed sobbing as her precious little angel spun and twirled and wiggled and did cartwheels.

The foster parents, along with everyone else in the auditorium, were laughing joyfully, and soon all the other girls were joining in, doing their own individual little dances.

Emma joined hands with Heather again and they danced together happily, as the audience cheered and Snow heard the foster father call, "Way to go, Emma!"

The music stopped and the teacher came back out to corral the little girls into a giggling bow and then the curtain closed.

"I can't believe you haven't told me about this," Snow said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I forgot," Emma said, a small smile playing across her face. "I forgot how wonderful that day was."

Snow gave her a confused look. "How could you forget that?"

Emma was still looking at the screen. "I didn't like to think about it…because I left them soon after. They weren't able to keep me."

Snow was about to say something, but the video started up again. Now they were backstage, and Snow's heart went into her throat at her first up-close video image of Emma. A petite woman – the foster mother she assumed – was handing Emma and Heather bouquets of roses.

"Hey Emma," the man behind the camera said.

Emma, face flushed, eyes sparkling, and grinning from ear to ear, turned to face the camera.

"Those were some nice moves out there, you really saved the day, didn't you?"

Emma ducked her head shyly and shrugged one shoulder. It was an expression Snow had seen Emma make almost every day!

"I didn't want the dance to be ruined," little Emma said, and yet more tears sprang forth at the wonderful sound of her baby's small voice. Little Emma giggled. "I just did the first thing that popped in my mind!"

"Well I think it was great," the foster father said. "Good job, Emma."

"Thanks," she said sweetly, then giggled some more when Heather attacked her with a hug. The foster father spoke to Heather some, and then the screen went blank.

"That's all," Emma said, tears in her eyes as well. "They gave me a copy when I left."

A shuffling sound from behind them made them both jump, and they turned to find David and Henry standing behind the couch.

They'd apparently been standing there a while, because David was staring at the now-black screen with a look that was a mixture of wonder and anguish.

"That was really you, Mom?" Henry asked.

Emma wiped her eyes and chuckled self-consciously. "Yeah, Kid, that was me."

Emma met David's eyes, and Snow could see all the things in him that he wanted to say to her, but neither of them were quite ready for yet.

"I missed the first part," he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Yeah," said Henry. "Can we watch it again?"

Snow smiled and nodded, not quite trusting her own voice and scooted over to give the boys some room. When she bumped into Emma, Emma's hand immediately went into her own.

Snow looked down at their joined hands, then back up to Emma's face. "I'm glad I still had this," Emma said. "I'm glad you both can see it. It really is one of the best memories I have."

Snow squeezed her daughter's hand. "Thank you," she whispered.

As they watched Emma save the show again, David murmured, "That's my girl."

Snow glanced up to find Emma watching him with something almost like disbelief in her eyes. "Yep," Snow agreed, still looking at her grown daughter beside her. "That's our girl."

* * *

**I'm not getting carried away with the fluffiness am I? O_O I just love Charming Family Fluff! Also I wanted to mention that baby Emma's little performance in the video was loosely based off of the movie Uptown Girls when Dakota Fanning does her cute little routine in the recital at the end. :)**

**Next up, Mama Snow and Emma go shopping for Emma's first ball gown! **


	4. Operation: Shopping Day!

**First and foremost, I want to send my thoughts and prayers to everyone who was in/knows anyone in Boston today. There's precious little beside that I can do, but I thought it might be nice to add another chapter today, in hopes it might cheer anyone who reads it up!**

**Coming up Emma/MM go shopping! Several reviewers have requested some more Charming/Emma time. There's a bit of it in this chapter, but coming up at The Ball is a father/daughter moment I hope will be just what you're wishing for! (And after that promo...the family feels have about killed me!)**

**Also, some of you have asked about Lacey. YES she and Gold will definitely be at the ball. I wanted her in this chapter, but I decided I didn't want to write her until I watched the episode on Sunday. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

She woke Emma up at the ass crack of dawn, nearly squealing in excitement to take her out shopping for her first ball gown.

Emma, though secretly amused by her mother's infectious giddiness, moaned and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. "It's barely 6:30am, Mare, the shops don't even open till 8."

"Oh come _on_, you. You take forever in the mornings anyway and I thought maybe we could get breakfast at Granny's first," she attempted to yank the blanket off, but Emma grabbed hold of it fast.

Emma peeked one eye open at her. "Jeez, you're like a kid on Christmas morning! How are you always so energetic so early? Thirty more minutes, m'kay?"

Mary Margaret sighed. "Okay, fine."

Satisfied, Emma nestled down to get a few more minutes of precious sleep when suddenly the wind was knocked out of her by an atom bomb of arrow-slinging princess.

"Ugh! Come ON! Are you serious?" Emma protested loudly, trying to dislodge her mother from her back. "Get off!" Mary Margaret only giggled, refusing to budge. "FINE! Okay?! I'll get up! Now get the hell off!"

With a satisfied chortle, Mary Margaret allowed her daughter to get up. "See you downstairs in twenty minutes!" she called cheerfully, but there was an order hidden in there.

Emma was down in fifteen, and fell gracelessly onto a stool at the counter, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee from David.

"She's finishing up getting ready," David said, nodding toward the curtain that separated their bedroom from the rest of the house then lowered his voice. "I know you probably think she's getting carried away, but it's just that she hasn't had something as simple as this to get excited about in a very long time."

Emma managed a tired smile. "Yeah, I know. And that face of hers is hard to resist."

David chuckled. "Don't I know it. Thank you though, for going along with her. I know this isn't exactly your thing but…" he glanced off toward the bedroom. "It's just so good to see her smiling again."

Emma followed his gaze. Mary Margaret had pulled back the curtain and was humming while she made up the bed. "Yeah, it is."

"So," David started wiping down the counter, and Emma had come to recognize that he tended to force his hands into activity when he was uncomfortable with a subject. "Think you'll save a dance for me at the ball?"

Of all things, that _wasn't _what she was expecting him to say. She took a long sip of her coffee, trying to formulate an answer, while David continued to wipe the same spot in the counter over and over. "Um…I…"

"Look, don't worry about it," David waved a hand, chuckling nervously. "Dancing in front of people, I know, you don't like it. I just thought that…I mean…oh never mind, forget I said anything."

"Um, uh…" Emma stammered, hating to hurt his feelings, even though he was valiantly hiding it. Dancing in the living room with him had been nice, but there was still this…painful awkwardness between them that neither could shake. They could fight side by side, they could discuss problems and solutions and worked well together for the good of their family and town, and they could talk about things like Mary Margaret, Henry, and swords vs. guns. Emma had come to trust this man, _this _version of David, despite her previous impressions of him during the curse. She trusted him with her life, and more importantly, with her son's. Everything between them was fine when they treated one another as friends, equals. But when discussion and actions turned more familial, they both seemed to clam up. Mary Margaret was one thing, she was Emma's best friend, but even then she still didn't know how to be the woman's _daughter_. With David? It felt impossible. "Well, you know," she tried again. "Maybe."

She may as well have said absolutely, the way David's eyes lit up. "Oh okay, well, you'll know where to find me!"

"Ready?" Mary Margaret asked airily as she breezed through the kitchen, reaching up for a kiss from her husband.

"Ready," Emma replied, relief evident in her voice. "Bye, David."

"Have fun, you two," David called, giving Emma an encouraging nod.

At Granny's, Ruby could speak of nothing but the ball.

"Leroy is finishing up with the stage and dance floor, and Marco is working on hanging up lights."

"I can't wait!" Mary Margaret enthused. "It's going to be wonderful! Have you found anything to wear?"

"Yep," Ruby said, grinning. "And it's gonna be hot. How about you two?"

"We're shopping today," Emma commented dryly.

"Ugh! I wish I could come! I'm here all day though. Got a date, Emma?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Henry is my date, and the only one I need. Neal's been kind of hinting around that he wants a dance, and Hook has been blatant that he wants one. But I don't want any drama, I just want to survive this thing! What about you?"

Mary Margaret's eyes twinkled. "Yeah, has a certain doctor asked you yet?"

Ruby huffed, slumping her shoulders. "No…but he hasn't asked anyone else so…I dunno, maybe he'll ask me to dance."

Emma smiled at her friend sympathetically. "I'm sure he'll come around. I think he just wants to make sure you know that he's not seeing you the way he did when you were cursed."

"I hope so. Oh, but I almost forgot, guess which saucy little librarian has actually convinced Mr. Gold to be her date?"

The three talked more about the ball until Ruby was finally called away to wait on another table, walking away with a stern, "Hold your horses!"

"So I'm thinking definitely something long, since the ball is at night," Mary Margaret chattered on, and it took Emma a moment to realize she was back talking about the dress.

"Does Storybrooke really have a big market for floor length gowns?" Emma asked wryly.

She shrugged. "I guess we'll find out. We did come from the _Enchanted Forest _after all."

"David asked if I'd save him a dance," Emma blurted suddenly.

Mary Margaret smiled. "I know. I encouraged him to ask you. He was so nervous about it."

"Great, now I feel even worse about my non-answer," she moaned, putting her face into her hands.

"What's the big deal? It's just a dance. You danced with him last week."

"I know, I know, and it _shouldn't _be a big deal…it's just…it's just _hard _with him," she leaned over, resting her forehead on the table with an audible thunk.

Mary Margaret chuckled softly and reached out to gently pat her blonde head. "You know he loves you, right? He knows it's hard for you to let him in, because of what he was like during the curse…"

"But that's not it! I forgave him for that, really. And even back then, I honestly had a hard time disliking the guy. I felt kind of bad for him 'cause he was such an idiot."

Mary Margaret snorted. "That he was. Not that I was much better."

"But at least I got to know you! Dammit, Mary Margaret, you started worming your way into my heart the minute I got here. I tried _so hard_ not to like you…"

Mary Margaret's eyes widened, putting on that kicked puppy face that had lowered Emma's defenses to start with. "You did? I always liked you."

Emma chuckled. "I know. But I grew to love you faster than anyone I've ever known save Henry. You were my family before I knew it was the truth. Plus, I know what you want. I _know_ that you want to be my…" she fumbled on the word. "parent. But I don't know what David wants. I don't think he really sees me as _his _the way you do."

"Of course he does!" Mary Margaret insisted, sounding shocked. "Emma, honey, he loves you more than anything! He just isn't as sure how to…express it. Emma…" she took a breath. "This is hard…and weird for all of us. We understand if you're not ready to be someone's daughter. But it can't change the fact that you _are _our daughter. We're going to figure it all out eventually. You'll see. It'll come when none of us are looking for it."

Emma half-smiled. "So you're saying I should dance with him at that party."

"The dance doesn't matter, I'm saying you should relax. But I do think talking to him would help."

She sighed. "Okay. I'll try. Thanks."

Clothes shopping with Mary Margaret turned out to be not as an uncomfortable experience as Emma feared, if a little exhausting due to her endless exuberance.

She took Emma's preferences to heart, and stayed away from dresses that were frilly or overtly girlie. Or pink.

"I wish we could go to one of those…malls, like you see on TV," she said, picking through the slim selection at Modern Fashions. "I may just have to make you a dress."

"You can do that?" Emma asked. "Wait, you're Snow White. Of course you can do that. In fact you probably have birds that do it for you."

"I think you're thinking of Disney's Cinderella," Mary Margaret said, not looking up from the clothing rack. "But Ella didn't have birds that sewed. I'm the only one I know of who can talk to birds, and no…they didn't help me sew. They helped me clean. Sometimes."

Emma rolled her eyes. "The ball is in three days. Can you make an entire dress in that amount of time? And what about you? You don't have a dress either."

Mary Margaret groaned. "I've been so absorbed into finding _you _a dress, I didn't even think of myself! I have plenty of dresses though, I'll find something.

Emma poked half-heartedly through the rack, when something caught her eye. "Well, this it kind of nice…" she pulled out a long gown that was of, well, the snowiest white. It was sleeveless and looked to be form-fitting along the bodice then flowed out at the hip in piecey strips, almost as if shredded, without really looking like Ruby had gotten a hold of it during a full moon. Emma thought it was pretty and rather edgy. "I like it. Do you think white is too…wedding-y?" she held it up to herself.

Mary Margaret was looking at the dress on wonder though, as if she would break into tears any second, her mouth slightly agape.

"Uh…everything okay?"

Mary Margaret chuckled and shook her head to clear it. "I'm sorry, I'm just surprised is all. That's…_my_ dress."

Emma held the gown up higher and looked from it to her mother and back again. "Yours? Wait you mean like, from back there? You sure?"

She nodded, smiling wide. "Oh I'm positive. After Charming and I reclaimed the kingdom, I learned that all of my beautiful clothes from home were destroyed by Regina. Charming sent for dressmakers immediately and they made me a lovely gown. But Johanna…" she blinked back a few tears at the mention of her dear friend's name. Emma placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Johanna could tell that I didn't really like it, even though I refused to say so. It truly was a beautiful dress, but it…I had been a living as a fugitive for _so long_. At that point I could barely remember what it was like to wear a gown and corset instead of leather pants."

Emma smirked. "I can relate there. Except for the leather part," she squinted her eyes. "But I could rock it."

Mary Margaret chuckled. "Oh I'm sure. Anyway, it wasn't just the clothes, it was royalty in general. Johanna could tell that I was finding it difficult to adjust back, so she, Granny and Red took the dress and altered it, made it possible to wear without a corset, and ripped the skirt so it would look like it'd been through a forest," she giggled. "I think they meant it only to cheer me up, not to actually wear, but they didn't count on me loving it so much. They dressed my hair in flowers and leaves, a style I continued to wear the rest of my time there and I went to our first ball of the new kingdom wearing this."

Emma smiled, trying to picture how her mother looked in the gown. "What did everyone else think of it?"

"Oh, Charming loved it. Older women thought it immodest, since my legs peeked through the material in places, but I hardly cared. I loved it. Unfortunately I didn't stay at that ball long."

"No?"

She grinned. "Got sick as a dog that night."

Emma made a face. "Yikes. That's too bad. Why are you smiling like that?"

Mary Margaret reached out and looped her arms through one of Emma's. "Because that was the night I realized I was pregnant with you."

Emma didn't quite know what to say to that, but suddenly the dress in her hands meant quite a bit more than just a dress.

Mary Margaret sighed wistfully. "That's why we had to hurry and plan that formal wedding ceremony, since only a few knew your father and I were already married!"

Emma laughed. "What would those old women have said then?"

She stuck her nose up in mock superiority. "Who cares? I was Queen."

Emma fingered the tattered material of the dress before holding out to her mother. "Here, you should wear it to the dance."

Mary Margaret's eyes were twinkling. "I'd much rather see _you _in it."

She pulled it back to herself, finding it absurd how much she _wanted _to wear it. What was wrong with her? "Are you sure?"

"Only if you want to," Mary Margaret said quickly. "You said you liked it and…well, I think you'd look beautiful in it."

Emma smiled, trying to – and then giving up on – hiding her pleased expression.

"Let's buy it, and then we'll look for shoes…" Mary Margaret said, heading for the register.

"_Buy_ it?" Emma exclaimed. "It's already yours! How did it even get here?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "How did anything get anywhere? It's _here_ now, in a store, so it's only fair to pay for it."

Emma wanted to argue that she was the _queen _for crying out loud, but decided against it. They paid for the dress, (Emma's objections to Mary Margaret paying for it fell on deaf ears,) and went off to find shoes and accessories.

After they had Emma's dress, they focused their efforts on finding Mary Margaret something.

"Really, Emma, I could just wear one of my own dresses."

"And leave me wearing a ball gown while you're in a cute little cocktail dress? No maim. Besides, this is a shopping mission. We shall not give up!"

Mary Margaret threw back her head and laughed as Emma strode ahead on the sidewalk, pointing an imaginary sword in front of her. "Oh, Henry would be proud of you to say so! But we're out of places to look! Seriously, Emma, as soon as we find a way to break the curse that keeps us here, I want you to take me to a mall!"

"I could show you the world, Mare, and all you want to see is a shopping mall?"

"Well, the world, too. But mall first. And then a Walmart."

"_Walmart?"_

She shrugged. "I just can't imagine what it's like without seeing it for myself."

Emma laughed. "I guess you have a point. Okay, it's a promise, but for now, where can we look for you a dress that we haven't already looked?"

They ended up, of all places, in Mr. Gold's shop.

"Does he _have _clothes?" Emma asked warily, walking into the dark store.

"He has everything," Mary Margaret said with a shrug.

"That I do," Gold appeared seemingly from nowhere. "And if I guess correctly, you're looking for something fit for a ball."

"So you…_have _women's clothes?" Emma tried to clarify.

Gold rolled his eyes at her. "As your mother said, I have _everything_. Go on, in the back."

Sure enough, he had several racks of men's and women's clothing in the back of his store. Emma wasn't sure how to feel about that. Mary Margaret wound up finding yet another one of her own gowns. This time an elaborate, strapless purple one.

"That's amazing," Emma admitted, though it was a little…poofy for her taste.

"I wore this to Ella's wedding," Mary Margaret said, stroking the fabric affectionately, but then her gaze shifted, landing on another dress on the rack. "Oh, look at this one!" Before Emma could even see it, she snatched it into a curtained off corner of the room to try it on.

She emerged seconds later in a vibrant red halter top dress with a long, softly flowing skirt and a daringly low neckline. It conformed to her shape without being tight, flattering her in all the right places.

"Wow," Emma's eyebrows were raised. "You look _hot_."

"Really?" Mary Margaret grinned impishly. "I like this one."

"I think Charming will approve," Gold smirked as he passed by, giving her an up and down look. "Try it with these," he handed her a pair of black, elbow length lace gloves.

Though he'd earned a glare from both women for leering, Mary Margaret accepted the gloves and they all decided it was perfect.

They bought both dresses, and to Gold's credit he didn't charge Mary Margaret for the purple one. "Who else would ever buy it?" he'd said dismissively.

As they opened the door to leave, Emma looked at her from the corner of her eyes. "You realize that after all you said about my dress back home, _you're _the one going to the ball in a sexy red dress. Snow White."

"At least it covers my ass!" Mary Margaret argued loudly, causing Gold to chortle from behind them and Archie to stop in front of them on the sidewalk, eyeing them uncomfortably.

"What?" Emma asked Archie in faux offense. "You thinking about Snow White's ass?"

Blushing as furiously as the conscientious cricket, Mary Margaret swatted her daughter's arm. "Oh, NOW he is!"

Giving her mother a teasing, (slightly evil) smirk, Emma threw her arm around her mother (an action she couldn't know how much pleased the other woman,) and led her away from the flustered therapist.

"I gotta say, Mare, I don't think I've ever enjoyed shopping this much," she looked at her shyly from the corner of her eye. "Thanks."

Mary Margaret slipped her arm around the blonde's waist. "You're welcome," though Emma could see it in her eyes, she was actually saying, thank _you_.

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**Next up, a chapter I've been particularly looking forward to, Snow and Emma get ready for the ball. :)**


	5. Just Like You

**The response to this story has blown me away you guys! I love reading everyone's reviews, and they continue to inspire me to keep this lovefest going!**

**Speaking of Lovefest, this may or may not be the fluffiest chapter yet. I'll let you be the judge. ;) I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out, so I hope you will be too. Thanks again for all the kind words!**

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"VERY handsome!" Mary Margaret gushed as Henry obligingly held out his arms and turned around so she could see his suit. "Perfect for a young prince! Charming, you did a wonderful job picking out your outfits. I'm proud."

"Told you I could handle it!" David said, grinning goofily. After a lengthy debate, he'd convinced her he could take Henry shopping for their suits himself. They wore matching black dress pants and jackets that were a deep, dark red with tarnished gold buttons, and cream dress shirts that ruffled slightly in the front. The result was an adorable mix of modern wear and Charming's old style from back home. "We wanted capes, but they didn't have any," he half-joked.

"Well, you know how the way you swished your cape affected me!" she flirted, leaning up for a kiss.

"Ugh," Emma snapped them out of their moment. "Children present."

"I'm not the one going, "ugh!" Henry smirked. "What do you think, Mom?"

Emma blinked at him in surprise, barely able to respond at first. "Henry, wow, you look…so grown up!" And really, when had he grown so tall? It was moments like this that made Emma ache for all the years she missed with her boy. When he came to her, he was still a young child, but in the all-too-short amount of time she'd known him, he was already turning into a young man right before her eyes. The way he stood there, shoulder's back, standing proud and tall just like his grandpa made her want to cry.

Henry beamed and stood patiently while Mary Margaret smoothed back some of his hair. When a lock of it refused to stay slicked back, she licked her thumb and forced it into submission. "Hey!" he protested laughingly.

Emma laughed as well. "Did you seriously just do the thumb lick thing?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "I'm a grandma. It's what grandmas do."

"And she's the hottest grandma there is!" David grabbed her by the waist, pulling her to him.

This time, both Emma and Henry went "ugh!"

"You too scoot," Mary Margaret said, pushing her husband away playfully. "They need your help setting up. Let us girls get ready."

"Are you sure you don't want us to come back and escort you to the ball?" he asked.

"No, we'll be fine. We'll make our _grand entrance_."

Emma frowned. "Does it have to be _grand_?"

"We'll make our sneaking through the back entrance?"

"Better."

Mary Margaret shoved the guys out the door and turned to Emma. "Alright, let's get ready!"

Emma smiled at her enthusiasm. She knew how much her mother had been looking forward to tonight. She also knew that most of her excitement was geared toward "getting ready."

At first she didn't understand it. Mary Margaret had barely even spoken about the actual ball, all she could talk about was "how to do Emma's hair" and "making sure Emma's dress was perfect." Meanwhile, Emma was just anxious for the whole thing to be over.

But the night before she'd started thinking. She remembered what Mary Margaret had said about that hideous dress in her old photo, about how she would have dressed her "more stylishly." She remembered the look on her face when she watched the old home video of Emma dancing.

And then she thought about all those months ago in the Enchanted Forest when they were in the nursery, talking about all the things she was going to do with Emma in that room.

"_I was gonna teach you how to walk in here…how to talk. How to dress for your first ball."_

She'd literally smacked her own forehead at the belated realization of what Mary Margaret was doing. It was far too late to teach Emma to walk and talk, but it wasn't too late to dress her for her first ball. She realized how important this must be to her mother.

And standing there in her mother's bedroom, unzipping the bag that held her dress, she resolved then and there that she wasn't going to let her be disappointed. There wasn't a whole lot she felt she could give her, but she could give her this.

"I might need help getting this on," she said quietly. Actually, she could probably do it herself. Mary Margaret had altered it to better fit Emma's form, but the laces in the back _would_ prove tricky, so she resolutely bit back her independence and turned to face her mother, holding out the dress.

Mary Margaret blinked and hesitated, as if unsure if Emma really meant it. Then her face lit up in a way that showed Emma that she was doing the right thing, but she was obviously fighting from getting overly excited.

"Well, of course!" she said and carefully helped Emma pull the dress on over her head. (Which honestly _was _easier than doing it alone with all the fabric.)

Mary Margaret pulled the laces tight, but fussed with them until she was sure Emma was comfortable. "I hated corsets," she explained. "But back there they were just a way of life. The only way dresses would fit. But after wearing men's clothes for so long, I refused to wear them any longer and demanded this dress and all my future gowns be made so that I wouldn't have to. The laces and firm bodice were a compromise, but I found I could wear it comfortably enough. How are you?"

Emma wiggled a bit then sat down to test if she could. "Tight, but I can breathe just fine. How does it look?"

Mary Margaret's cheeks must have been sore by then. They had been stretched into the biggest smile Emma had ever seen for quite a while. "Absolutely stunning," then she winked playfully. "I dare say you might even look better in it than I did! Now, did you decide how you would do your hair?"

Emma sat down at the vanity and brushed her hair while Mary Margaret slipped into her own dress behind her. "David won't know what hit him!" she exclaimed after a wolf-whistle, watching her through the mirror.

Mary Margaret winked again, this time saucily. "That was the plan!" Emma chuckled. The one thing that changed the most between them since the curse breaking was the way they talked to one another about men. Before, they shared everything. Emma, now to her dismay, had wheedled out every little detail about Mary Margaret's affairs with both Whale and David. She in turn had been substantially more candid about her past trysts to Mary Margaret than she'd ever been with anyone else. Now, they both tried heroically to forget those discussions EVER happened, and Emma was still somewhat scarred by walking in on her mother and father in _bed_. But even though Emma pretended to gag whenever her parents showed physical affection in front of her, truth was she thought it was sweet. Who wouldn't want loving parents, but more than that she simply liked seeing Mary Margaret so happy with David. And every now and then, when they were alone, they could lapse just a little back into "best friend" mode and talk about that thing men and women inevitably do without embarrassment. Luckily for Emma, Mary Margaret's details about her marriage were restricted to simply loving him, and little innuendo jokes like now.

Emma shook her head, realizing Mary Margaret was talking again. "Now, your hair. Are you going to leave it down?"

She preferred her hair down, which was clearly why Mary Margaret suggested it, but right then she decided she'd go for something different. "No…I…I want to do it up," she was still looking only at Mary Margaret's reflection, and continued shyly from underneath her lashes. In for a penny and all that. "Will you do it for me?"

Right then she wondered briefly if she might ought to reel it in a bit, because her mother looked to be on the verge of a happiness aneurysm.

Mary Margaret quite literally did a little happy dance and came up behind Emma to get to work on her long golden locks. "What would you like?"

"Whatever you think looks good."

Mary Margaret stilled and looked up at Emma's reflection. The look of complete and unabashed _adoration_ on her face took Emma's breath away. How could this woman, true it was her mother, but a woman no older than herself who had barely a chance to really know her love her _this_ much? It baffled her. Humbled her. Made her love her mother back all the more.

Mary Margaret leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Emma's shoulders from behind, kissing her cheek. "You know I know you're just doing this to make me happy," she smirked. "And I love you for it. But you don't have to."

Emma leaned back into her mother's embrace, absently picking out all of their similarities with their faces right next to each other in the mirror. _Eyes, nose…chin. How did I not see this long ago?_ As if picking up on her train of thought, Mary Margaret lightly pinched Emma's chin, making her smile. "I know. But I want to. Now quit looking the gift horse in the mouth and make me pretty."

Mary Margaret giggled cheerfully and with a little hop went to work. She pulled Emma's hair into a loose bun, letting curled tendrils fall down to frame her face. Emma even let her tuck tiny red flowers and leaves into it, and then end result was one she found she actually really liked.

She offered to do Emma's makeup, so she sat obediently still and closed her eyes while Mary Margaret brushed on a blush-colored eye shadow.

Emma was the type of person who liked her personal space. Unless she was threatening someone or having a stand-off, being face to face with another person often made her acutely uncomfortable. Mary Margaret was one person who liked to breech that little bubble of personal space Emma had quite often, and though it had thrown her at first, (it was even more difficult to hide her emotions from the other woman when she was staring right into her eyes,) she'd slowly become more accustomed and accepting of her friend's affectionate nature.

But now, they were nearly nose-to-nose, and Emma could feel her mother's breath warm on her skin as she painstakingly applied eyeliner above her lashes. And she could barely believe how okay she was with it.

Peeking her eyes open, she watched as her mother gently and expertly applied the makeup, but somehow Emma knew that Mary Margaret was spending most of her time staring at her features. She supposed that was the mom in her. But she still couldn't quite fathom the look of wonder in the other woman's eyes.

Knowing that Emma didn't normally wear much lipstick, Mary Margaret asked - insisting she could say "no" with no hard feelings - if she could give Emma bright red lips. Throwing caution to the wind, Emma agreed, and then turned and offered to do her makeup as well.

"Ugh, could you be any more perfect?" Emma groused playfully while doing Mary Margaret's eyes.

"Oh hush," she swatted Emma's arm.

"Well, you _are _the fairest of them all."

"When I find whoever came up with that phrase, I'm gonna slap them. With a really big stick."

Hair perfected, makeup done, they stood side by side in the full length mirror to see the finished product.

"You look wonderful," Mary Margaret whispered.

Emma stared at her own reflection in surprise. Fair skin, white dress, red lips. Her hair wasn't black, but she gladly accepted her blonde waves from her father. "I look…" like a fairytale, she thought. Like a princess, she thought. She smiled. "Like you."

Mary Margaret wrapped an arm around her waist and rested her head on her shoulder. "Thank you for this, Emma."

Emma responded by twisting around so she could give her mother a hug. "Now, ready to make our entrance?"

Mary Margaret smirked. "Through the back way?"

"You crazy? Looking as sexy fine as _we _do? Hell no, we're making a grand entrance."

Mary Margaret chuckled and released her, grabbing her clutch from the bed. "Let's go break some necks!"

Emma turned to follow her, but from the corner of her eye she noticed that the bow holding her laces tied look like it was about to come undone. "Hey, Mom, wait, I think my laces are coming loose."

It wasn't until Mary Margaret was behind her retying the laces when Emma realized what she'd said. When Mary Margaret's hands froze on her back, she knew that she'd just realized it too.

She had said the word in her mind nearly every day since she learned the truth, she'd openly referred to Mary Margaret as her "mom" to other people, so it was only a matter of time before the endearment slipped for real. So she held her breath, waiting for a reaction, waiting for her own mind to decide if it was okay with this

Wordlessly, Mary Margaret finished tying her up, and Emma turned around to find her smiling gently, trying to hold back tears.

Emma smiled back, not backtracking or trying to take back what she'd said. She decided it wasn't so bad to say it. Still a little weird, but there was no one on earth she would ever rather call "Mom."

"Good?"

Her mom nodded. "Perfect," she held out her arm, which Emma looped her own through, and they headed for the door.

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**The Ball is coming, you guys, it's coming! **


	6. The Grand Entrance

**Surprise! I wasn't planning to post any more until after the weekend, but I had a minute and decided to post this little bit now. :D The Ball was originally going to be one chapter, but after some ideas you guys have given me and some of my own, it's going to be several chapters. This one here is short, but it was intended to be part of a longer chapter, I just thought it stood okay on it's own. Thanks again for your awesome reviews! Enjoy!**

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Since Mary Margaret's Liberty was significantly roomier than Emma's Bug, they took it to the ball to better accommodate their gowns.

They rode in silence, Emma nervously fidgeting until Mary Margaret reached over and patted her knee. "Relax, Emma, everything is going to be fine."

Mary Margaret's soothing voice calmed Emma down somewhat, but she was still nervous. She _hated _being nervous.

"What if I trip?"

She chuckled. "Then many present will probably recall fondly how I tripped over a dropped _fork_ of all things at Ella's wedding. Everyone thought I was drunk."

Emma laughed, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease at last.

Parking was near the street, while the location of the party was farther into the woods. An odd place to hold a ball, in Emma's opinion, but the only other option was City Hall and even she could admit that didn't lend enough to the "ball" environment.

They walked quietly and leisurely down the boardwalk, Emma concentrating too hard on keeping the hem of her gown up to talk. The task also proved helpful though in keeping her from psyching out about walking into the dance. Regardless of how undeserving of attention she believed she was, she was who she was. And she was the Savior. That and she was walking in with her mother, Snow White, so she knew good and well all eyes would be on them.

She could hear music and laughter from up ahead, but she didn't dare look up lest she trip on the uneven wooden walkway and face-plant in her beautiful white gown.

When they finally reached a point where carpet had been laid out, leading to the forest clearing where the Spring Ball was set up, she let her hem drop with sigh and looked up to see where they were going.

At first it looked to her like they were getting ready to walk into a swarm of fairies. And upon realizing THAT was her first thought, she shook her head at herself ruefully. _Been living in a Disney movie too long._

"I gotta admit, everyone really outdid themselves," Emma commented.

The sun was just setting, casting the area in a soft, warm glow. It was a mercifully mild night temperature wise, and here and there across the party were space heaters so the ladies wouldn't have to bundle up and hide their dresses. White twinkling lights were strung up in the trees with multicolored paper lanterns (most of which made by Mary Margaret herself.) An elaborate and beautiful archway was set up in the front, covered with spring flowers and white twinkling lights. Everything looked fresh, natural and serene, and right out of a children's book. A band was playing a lilting tune Emma could only guess came from their world.

Still looking on from a distance, Emma could see that everyone had really dressed up for the occasion. Women were wearing a mixture of modern, sleek dresses and gowns suitable for a fairytale. Men were in suits of varying formal style. Children in their Sunday best were running along the edges waving sparklers.

Emma gulped. Though she'd caved and agreed that they could make their entrance through the gazebo, she was absurdly nervous. Mary Margaret had tried to reason that she'd stood before all these exact same people before when she was running for Sheriff, but for Emma that was entirely different. She hadn't done it for the attention or even the job, she'd done it for Henry and to keep the office out of Regina's clutches. That, and she'd been allowed to wear her leather jacket, making her feel more sure of herself. Regardless of how much she liked her dress, she just wasn't as confident in it.

But she squared she shoulders and told herself that she could do this, and absently reached out for her mother's hand, who laced her fingers through her own and squeezed encouragingly.

"Keep your head high," Mary Margaret instructed gently, evenly. "And your shoulders straight. Don't shy away from the stares, make eye-contact. They're honoring you with their attention and love, so you should honor them back by accepting it gratefully."

Emma blinked in surprise and looked over at her mother, knowing a teacher's instructional tone when she heard one. She realized with more than a little amazement and apprehension that Snow was cautiously passing down a lesson in being a royal. It was no secret that Emma wanted nothing to do with being a princess, not that it had ever been properly discussed (but probably should be.) But the little girl who still resided in Emma's heart longed to learn from her mother anything that she could. She wondered fondly if her grandmother had said the same thing to Snow when she was little.

"Got it," was all Emma could come up with, those brief directions spinning through her mind like a top while she anxiously hoped she'd remember to do all four, holding on to her mother's hand like it was the only thing keeping her standing. She realized she would be making her "entrance" holding hands with her mom, but at that point she couldn't care less. Mary Margaret didn't seem to mind either.

Side by side they walked under the archway, smiling for a prom-like photo from the recently discovered (and more or less forgiven) Sydney. "Looking good, ladies!" he said loudly enough to catch the attention of those around them.

Just as she'd expected and feared and anticipated and dreaded, everyone paused in whatever they were doing and all eyes turned to them. She reminded herself over and over that these were just her friends, and took her mother's instruction to heart and kept her head held high and shoulders back, desperately scanning the crowd for David and Henry so she could lock eyes with them and see no one else. But she couldn't see them through the damn crowd. She couldn't even spot Ruby. So she settled on Gold of all people who stood proudly beside a scantily clad Lacey, and who's amused smirk and astonishingly encouraging nod kept her grounded.

There were admiring gasps and quite a few "she looks just like her mother!" Men eyed them appreciatively, women eyed them enviously.

And then…IT happened.

Emma could never later say who'd started it, though she had the irritated feeling that it was probably Ruby.

Everyone was _bowing_.

The men bent at the waist while the women dropped into graceful (if out of practice) curtsies. Frantic eyes met Mary Margaret's, but the latter only smiled serenely at her and nodded with an expression that said, "it's okay."

Desperate not to embarrass herself, and even more desperate not to let her mother down, Emma determinedly kept her head up and even managed what she hoped was a grateful smile. From the corner of her eye, she watched Mary Margaret give a deep nod, a sort of demi-bow in return, and the part of her mind that wasn't screaming "RUN!" was blown away by how regal she looked. No crown, no throne, but still every bit a royal.

She mimicked the motion as best she could, hoping no one could see how her legs were shaking, and everyone rose.

"Breathe, Emma," Mary Margaret whispered. "Just breathe."

Emma took a deep breath, and let her mom lead her into the dance, wondering _how _on earth a princess could deal with that on a regular basis. But it was done, it happened, and she managed it with dignity. And for the millionth time since the curse broke, she thanked God or whoever was listening that her mom was beside her.

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**Coming up, we'll go inside of the heads of some choice men at the party and see what they thought of Emma and Snow's "grand entrance!" If you have a favorite of who you'd like to see the reaction from, let me know and I'll see what I can do!**


	7. In Their Eyes

**Hey guys! I know it's been a few days, but I had a busy busy birthday weekend. :D I know there's a certain anonymous reviewer who has been quite anxious for an update. ;) I also wanted to wait to see the episode Lacey to find out what she's like before adding her to any chapter. (And whoa...that ep...man.)**

**This chapter here is more of a placeholder while I work on the Ball. Keep in mind that each section is happening simultaneously from different peoples' perspectives. Thanks SO much for all the reviews! You guys are what makes this so fun to write!**

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The Spring Ball was in full swing, but Henry had little interest in the dancing or socializing the grown-ups were doing. He'd abandoned Gramps a little while ago when Pinocchio ushered him away for some scheme or another. Though Pinocch was trying to be a good boy, he had a undeniable mischievous side that normally got Henry in trouble instead of him.

But Henry could hardly complain. Though a part of him missed August, Pinocchio was the first real friend who was a kid like him he'd ever had. Even in a land with magic, Henry still felt like an outcast at school. Now Pinocchio was an even bigger outcast, so it only made sense that they stuck together.

They were hiding under the buffet table, and Pinocch was trying to wheedle Henry into swiping some cupcakes.

"But you're the prince's grandson," the younger boy pleaded. "It isn't stealing if _you _take them."

"I'll get you _one, _Pinocch, but I'm not taking the whole plate!" Henry insisted. He wasn't letting the younger kid talk him into this one.

"Henry?"

Henry nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice that certainly wasn't Pinocch's said his name.

Paige…er, Grace, was peeking underneath the tablecloth at them, giggling slightly. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, nothing!" Henry exclaimed, blushing scarlet and crawling out from under the table. "We were just…uh…"

"Private conversation," Pinnoch said, folding his arms. "No girls allowed!"

"Oh," Grace began, looking embarrassed. "Sorry…"

"No, it's okay!" Henry interrupted her. "Don't listen to him."

"Henry!"

"Not _now_, Pinocch! Sorry, Grace. No, you can play with us…um, I mean if you want."

Now it was Grace's turn to blush, which she did prettily. "Actually I was hoping maybe you would…"

"Hey, Henry!" Pinocch blurted, and Henry shot him a withering look, wishing the boy still had some of August's coolness in him. But the younger kid paid him no mind, and was pointing toward the entrance. "Is that your mother?"

Henry followed Pinocch's gaze to the archway where people were entering the party. For a second he wondered if the kid was just trying to distract him from Grace, because that wasn't him mom. A few people shifted and blocked his view, so he darted around them, Pinnoch and Grace on his heels, until he found a rock along the outskirts of the party to stand on and he realized…it WAS his mom!

Emma and his Grams were coming through the entrance holding hands, a fact that he took the time to approve of. Grams was hardly recognizable as well, but his attention was glued to his mother.

The last time he'd seen her in a dress was the night he found her in Boston. He'd thought her a pretty lady then, but she was the _Savior_, and his mother so he probably would have found her pretty no matter what. But that had been a short dress that looked far too uncomfortable, now his mother was dressed like a _princess_.

Not that he'd ever cared about clothes one way or the other, certainly not her clothes, but even he had to admit she looked like an angel.

"Your mom is the prettiest girl in the world!" Grace said dreamily. "I wish I looked like her."

Henry gulped, knowing he should say _something_ to that, but his words couldn't catch up to his head.

But the opportunity was taken when something else happened. People were bowing, one by one to his Grams and Mom, until everyone present was knelt before them.

Other people might have looked at Emma and seen calm confidence, but Henry knew better. He knew his mother, and she looked terrified.

But this was right; this was how it was supposed to be. His grandmother the Queen, and his mother the Princess. Giggling, both Grace and Pinocch followed suit, bowing awkwardly. Henry didn't bow. He didn't think his mom could see him from where he was, but he knew she would be horrified if she found out he was bowing to her.

So he didn't bow, but he smiled proudly. If the woman who's door he knocked on last year could see her now, she wouldn't believe her eyes.

* * *

He could see her from across the still-empty dance floor, chatting with Leroy. Ever since that crazy night of Mr. Mendel's accident, Viktor had been trying to reevaluate his life. Both of them, really. There were parts of Whale that were very much still there, and probably always would be, he thought. But the other side of him, the more...moral side of him wanted him to do better than he'd done in two lifetimes.

And that could start with a certain woman who was probably the only one who understood him.

A bustle of activity drew his attention to the entrance when in walked Emma and Mary Margaret. His eyes automatically took in their appearances from top to bottom and back again then settled on Mary Margaret in surprise.

Involuntarily his mind went back to a night months ago when he'd successfully seduced the timid, but undeniably attractive school-teacher into his bed. One nighters were something his cursed persona had been used to, but his true nature was already trying to claw its way out by that time and there had been a moment that he felt…well, it didn't really matter now.

Whale couldn't stop himself from appreciating her curves underneath a dress that was designed to send imaginations running, but Viktor smiled because that was one woman who was so far out of his league it was comical, and he silently congratulated David for managing to capture the heart of someone like her, and wished luck to any man who tried to win the heart of the hurricane of a woman beside her.

He surprised himself by bowing to the would-be royals with everyone else despite the fact that they ruled him in no world, then turned his attention back to another woman who was out of his league.

Ruby was definitely too good for him, but damn it if he wasn't going to do everything in his power to show her he could be worth it.

* * *

"Everything's lookin' good, Red," Leroy said, nodding in approval at the party in general. "You and Snow did good."

"Thanks for your help building the stage and dance floor," Ruby said. "It's perfect."

"It was nothin'. Speaking of Snow, is she here yet?"

"No, David said she and Emma stayed behind to get dressed. It's kind of big deal for Snow."

Leroy scrunched up his face. "Getting dressed? Why?"

Ruby chuckled. "Don't you remember? When she was pregnant, all she could talk about was Emma's first ball, first gown, and teaching Emma to use a bow and ride a horse. She never got to do any of that."

Leroy frowned. "Damn. You know, sometimes I forget that Emma is…well, that same little thing we were all waiting for so long."

"I know, me too. I was so excited to be her Aunty Red. And I know you were excited too, don't bother do deny it, now take that and imagine it coming from her parents."

Leroy shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can you imagine that kid though? She would have had a werewolf and seven pickax wielding dwarfs at her beckon call. Damned unfair."

Ruby nodded in agreement then smiled, gesturing to the front. "Well, maybe I didn't get to run around as a wolf with a toddler on my back and maybe you didn't get to make her a tiny pickax of her own, but it looks like Snow got one of _her _wishes."

Leroy looked up and they both smiled fondly at the woman who had absolutely no clue just how many people adored her, had adored her from the moment they knew she could be. Neither missed the way Emma clung to her mother nervously, or how said mother was nearly bubbling over with joy even though to those who didn't know her as well as they did, she looked the very picture of calm and grace.

"Like mother like daughter," Leroy mumbled un-grumpily. "Think maybe she'd still like a pickax? Don't think it would give her a name, but I could carve it in."

Ruby smirked at him knowingly. "I think she would. And who knows, maybe she'd like to take a wolf-ride. I hear I'm plenty big enough to carry an adult," they both had to laugh at _that _image.

"Do you think she knows that we're her godparents?"

Ruby shrugged. "I don't think so. If she does, knowing her she probably thinks nothing of it."

"Then I guess she doesn't know we'd lay down our life for her?"

"No, she'll probably never know. But then I don't think she'll ever realize just how loved she really is."

They took a moment more to admire their best friend and goddaughter, and then Ruby elbowed Leroy and gave him a mischievous wink before dipping into an elaborate curtsy.

Seeing where she was going with it, Leroy laughed and followed suit, motioning for his brothers nearby to do the same.

To their glee and most likely to their goddaughter's mortification, the entire place followed their example and bowed to their princess.

* * *

Gold stood with his arm around the waist of a stunning (if, in his opinion, though he'd never share it with her, underdressed,) Lacey. She wore a shimmering backless blue gown with a neckline that nearly reached her navel and a slit up one side that reached her hip, declaring to those who looked, (and really, who wouldn't?) her precise lack of underwear.

Though he couldn't deny he wished she would dress more appropriately, this new incarnation of Belle was confident in such wear, and the fact that she proudly clung to his arm, ignoring the gaping stares of just about every man present, made his ego (and other parts of his anatomy) swell.

Though the stares of those young, handsome men probably should have bothered him, he instead got a twisted sort of joy out of seeing their looks of disbelief that _she _was with _him_ and knowing that though she may tease with her display of skin, only _he _was allowed to have it all. It made him want to giggle the way did long ago. He still glared at them threateningly though, because she liked it when he did that.

But she didn't love him, a knowledge that pained him. Otherwise one of her frequent kisses or…other alarming things she now liked to do would have restored her real memory. But she was with him, had eyes only for him, and that was enough. For now.

"So what will it take to talk you into dancing with me?" Lacey purred. They were lingering right near the entrance, which annoyed her to no end, but Gold simply wasn't one to…well, _mingle_. And for Pete's sake, she got him here, didn't she?!

"How about a new leg?" he responded with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Oh come _on_! Your knee doesn't seem to bother you much when we're…"

From the glint in her eyes he knew what she was about to say, so he quickly interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Dearie, but nothing you say is going to get me out there."

"That so? So how about if I go ask that Killian guy to dance? Hmm?"

He glared at her, and was about to tell her _exactly_ what he'd do if she asked Hook to dance when a flash of red to his left caught his attention.

Well if it wasn't the Snowflake and the beloved Savior. He honestly had to admit, both women looked magnificent. Though no one's beauty could compare to _his _beauty, he _had _always had to agree that Snow White was indeed quite lovely. Lovelier than Regina, a point he'd often liked to make. And in that form fitting gown, the likes of which he'd much prefer Lacey in, made him see her in quite a different light. Perhaps he did her and her prince a favor when he took her off her pedestal at last.

"Oh, but it's okay for you to ogle other women!" Lacey chuckled.

"Of course not, Dearie, just thinking how they don't compare to you!"

Lacey smiled and rolled her eyes, and Gold looked back to the women who were now finished with their ridiculous photograph.

Emma looked like she was ready to bolt, but her mother kept a firm hand on her. Murmurs went out across the room about her dress, how she was an image of her mother. And it was true, the likeness was staggering, but he knew her well enough to know that she inherited her mouth and attitude from her father.

And, again, he had to admit, she was beautiful. Her looks were not something he'd ever paid attention to, he'd always been more drawn to her sheer lack of fear in himself and the dear Regina. But she truly was her mother's daughter after all.

She was scanning the crowd with frantic eyes, and after second they landed on him. He knew that look, it was one of a person overwhelmed.

Though he would never show it or express it, Gold felt a fondness for the brave, rash, bull-headed woman. He respected her bravery, and what's more – his son once loved her and she him, that had to count for something. She was one of the select few who could match him in a verbal sparring match, and she was powerful. So much more powerful than anyone knew. She could own these peasants if she just shook off her self-doubt. He gave her a swift nod, and she relaxed somewhat.

He spared a glance toward the punch-bowl where Bae stood near Charming, and the look of longing on his son's face was unmistakable. He felt for the boy.

Once the peasants started bowing, he turned his attention back to the real beauty.

* * *

David checked his watch for the umpteenth time. Where _were _they? Although he knew he should have expected this. His wife was known to take ages to get ready back home. But really, he and Henry had been there for three hours.

The ball was off to a good start though, and he was pleased. The town needed this; to come together and have fun and for one night and not worry about all the madness around them.

"Lose your date?" Neal asked, trying for lighthearted humor.

David didn't hate the guy. He knew he didn't take after his father, and he certainly didn't begrudge him time with his child, but he couldn't feel at ease with him. Couldn't trust him.

It'd taken some wheedling on both his and Snow's parts, but Emma had finally explained to them her history with Rumplestiltskin's son and why she had lied to Henry about him.

The rational part of his brain told him that if Neal hadn't left Emma, Henry wouldn't have come to Storybrooke and in turn wouldn't have brought Emma and got her to break the spell. But the other part, the louder part, the part that was a father, wanted to pulverize the man who knocked up his daughter, broke her heart and left her in _jail_ when she was barely 18.

But he kept his emotions and his sword to himself and tolerated him, for Henry's sake and for Emma's.

Didn't mean he had to always be nice to him.

"No Neal, I'd never lose _my _date," it was childish and petty. He didn't care.

Neal flushed, but pushed on. "So uh, where's Henry?"

Seeing that he was going to make small talk if it was the last thing he did, David rolled his eyes and groaned quietly. "He I did lose. He ditched me for August and Grace."

"Grace is that pretty little girl who bats her lashes at him, right?"

David chuckled. "That she is."

"Not sure how I feel about that."

Both men jumped at the sudden appearance of Jefferson on the other side of David. It was like he came from nowhere.

"Jefferson," David said warily. "Didn't know you were here."

"Well, my _daughter's _here, isn't she? She insisted I come, so here I am," he tipped his huge top hat.

David eyed the unstable man worriedly. Snow told him what the nut did to her and Emma during the curse. He had half a mind to kick him out on his ass, but this was not a night for drama or violence. Maybe tomorrow. "Neal, this is Jefferson. Better known as the Mad Hatter."

Jefferson narrowed his eyes. "I prefer Socially Unbalanced Hatter," he tipped his hat again. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Uh, yeah…you too…"

Suddenly Jefferson wasn't looking at either of them, and David and Neal exchanged bemused looks until they too saw what everyone was starting to fuss about.

It looked like his wife and daughter had made it at last. He could just make them out at the archway. He grinned and started shuffling his way toward the entrance and caught a glimpse of Neal who was frozen in place. With a sinking stomach he immediately recognized a besotted fool. What was worse, beyond him stood Hook, leering at his daughter in a way that made David want to stab the pirate with his own hook. Almost too afraid to, he chanced a look back to his other side at Jefferson, and damn it! He had eyes for his little girl too!

Moaning in exasperation and distress, David left the three idiots and pushed his way past the crowd.

When he could finally get a good look, he stopped dead in his tracks. Now, his wife could put on a Mumu and he'd still find her sexy as hell, but...wow. A whole bunch of thoughts, mostly involving screwing the ball and getting a room at Granny's flew through his head, but all those thoughts flew right out again when his eyes shifted to the left and he took in Emma for the first time. And suddenly the rest of the ball wasn't there.

He knew the gown immediately. It was one of Snow's favorites. With the tattered skirt and the way she had smirked up at him the night she wore it had reminded him of the muddy little bandit he'd fallen so hard for in the woods. On his daughter it was an entirely different story.

He'd never realized just _how much _she looked like Snow. Yet at the same time, her beauty was an entirely different kind of beauty. It radiated off of her like the power she was born with, and she was entirely unaware of it. She looked painfully nervous, and he longed to rush up there and hide her from the prying eyes that made her so uncomfortable, but Snow was holding her hand tenderly, so he stayed where he was.

Before he knew it, people were spontaneously bowing to his wife and daughter. He saw Emma's eyes flicker in disbelief and fear, but she kept her head held high, didn't step back or try to stop them. He smiled in pride, and holding one hand behind his back and the other across his abdomen, he bent at the waist, sparing one glance behind him to assure the ogling men were doing the same. Neal and Jefferson were, and a piercing glare and pointed cough made sent Hook rushing to follow suit.

When everyone rose, David didn't miss the sigh of relief from Emma or the look of pride and love on Snow's that he knew he mirrored. He elbowed his way through the crowd once more, smirking at how they parted like the Red Sea for his girls.

Snow caught his eye and grinned, tugging on Emma's arm. When Emma looked up she caught his eye at last and if David didn't know better, he would have thought she had been looking specifically for _him_. When their eyes met, he was suddenly transported back 29 years when he'd cradled that perfect baby for far too short a time before placing her gently in the wardrobe that would take her away from him. Those same big, expressive eyes had looked at him then, needing him. He'd seen that need back then, but was forced to let her go.

And right then, in that moment, those walls around his grown-up Emma's emotions cracked and he saw that same look again, that need. And as he made his way to his girl, he swore that he would _never _ever let her go again.


	8. The Spring Ball: Part 1

**And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, The Spring Ball! You can expect the ball to last a few chapters, as I have several ideas for different moments between different characters. I'm sorry if time between updates is longer than usual, because for the first time I'm writing this as I go without having it all done before I started publishing like I normally do. **

**In this chapter you're about to see my ship for Emma. It's not going to turn into the focus of the story, as this is still about Emma and her family, but I just couldn't resist. Hope you like it! For those who prefer the other ships...er...sorry, lol. **

**OH! And I had to tell you guys: Two weeks ago I did a 5k with my best friend and at the after party a DJ on stage was playing all this old dance music and Push It came on. No one had any idea why I giggled the way I did, and it took everything in me not to attempt to do "the dance." LOL. :D**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Well, she'd survived. She'd gotten past all the stares and genuflecting and came out relatively unscathed.

Mary Margaret leaned up to whisper in her ear, wrapping both her arms around one of hers. "You did great!"

"I thought I was going to throw up," she muttered.

"But you didn't, and you handled it wonderfully!"

Emma could tell that she was being honest and not just trying to make her feel better, so she smiled earnestly and briefly tapped her forehead to her mother's. "Thanks."

People were starting to surround them, complimenting their gowns while Emma fought back a twinge of claustrophobia. She looked up and around, suddenly overwhelmed with an unfamiliar desire to see him, to see if his eyes reflected the same pride and approval in her mom's.

This time she found him easily, trying to make his way through all the admirers. When she caught his eye, his face broke out into the biggest smile she'd ever seen, and that was saying something for David.

She smiled back, a feeling that was just beginning to be familiar warming her, until Ruby was pulling on her free arm. She, ironically _wasn't_ wearing red but instead was dressed in an elegant black and silver strapless, mermaid-style gown. But her earrings were red.

"Damn! Look at you two! You could turn me!"

"Back at you, Ruby," Mary Margaret giggled. "Just don't tell Charming!"

"Don't tell Charming what, exactly?" David asked, reaching them at last and wrapping his arm around Mary Margaret's waist.

"That your wife is leaving you," Ruby deadpanned. "And we're running away together."

"Like I'd let her go!" David joked, pulling her closer to him. "You look amazing, Love, I'm the luckiest guy here."

"And don't forget it," Mary Margaret leaned up to accept a kiss, while Emma was half-heartedly trying to dislodge her arm from her mother's grip.

"Ugh, guys, get a room," she moaned playfully.

"For serious," Ruby agreed.

David chuckled and settled his arm around his wife's shoulder and turned back to Emma, his expression unreadable. "Emma, you look…you look incredible."

Emma ducked her head, trying to hide her blush. "Thanks."

David looked as if he were about to say something more, but the high-pitched yell that only a child could make loud enough to be heard over the music drowned him out.

"Mom!"

"Hey, Henry!" Emma called out, relived to be interrupted from more squishy family moments for the time being. Not that she didn't like squishy family moments, sometimes they were just…a lot to handle. She opened her arms to accept her son's torpedo hug.

"That was AWESOME!" he exclaimed. "No one did that for Gramps and me!"

Emma laughed and rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Maybe next time, Kid. Having fun yet?"

Henry nodded. "Ruby says she has a lot of surprises in store!"

"Does she now?" Emma glanced over at said wolf girl, who was looking away, whistling innocently.

"You look really pretty, Mom," Henry said, making Emma grin. Somehow the compliment from him was easier to accept. "You too, Grams."

"Thanks," Mary Margaret said, and reached out to smooth down his hair again.

Henry dodged her hand however, frowning up at her. "Grams! Not here!" he blushed and glanced back where Grace and August were waiting.

Mary Margaret diverted her own hand to smooth down her dress instead with a sheepish smile. "Oops, sorry. Hi Grace! Hi Pinocchio!"

"Hi Miss Blanchard!" Grace exclaimed. Emma and Mary Margaret exchanged glances and chuckled at the now rarely-used honorific.

August sidled up beside Emma, and she arched an eyebrow at him. "You look real good, Emma!" he said in the most flirtatious manner an eight year old can accomplish.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," David muttered, earning a few puzzled looks.

The band was striking up a new number. "Oh!" Mary Margaret exclaimed. "David listen, this is what we used to dance to back home!"

David assumed a courtly posture and held his hand out to her. "Would the beautiful princess do me the honor of allowing me this dance?"

Mary Margaret giggled and curtsied, but then shot a worried look back at Emma. "Oh, wait, Emma…"

"It's cool," Emma said. "Go dance! I have Henry and Ruby here."

Mary Margaret hesitated so Emma all but pushed her toward David and the dance floor.

"Come _on_ Henry!" August said, tugging on his sleeve.

"Okay, I'm coming," Henry gave Emma an apologetic look and took off with August and Grace.

"Well, I _had _Henry," Emma chuckled.

"I gotcha babe," Ruby said, linking their arms again. "I've seen Neal and Hook lurking around. I think they have some sort of bet going to see who can get you to dance first."

Emma groaned. "I don't want to deal with either of them tonight."

"Well, I'll just have to be your date then! Feel like dancing? Come on, we could own this place!"

Emma was just about to decline when Dr. Whale approached them slowly. Emma was amazed by the shy, uncertain but completely enamored way he was looking at Ruby. He looked a completely different person than the letch Emma knew.

"Hey Ruby," he said, smiling like an idiot.

"Hey Viktor!" Ruby responded, also smiling like an idiot.

Emma shook her head with a smile. They were completely oblivious to how much the other was into them.

"I um, I was wondering if you would like to dance?"

Ruby grinned, then faltered. "Oh I uh, I'd love to but I promised I'd stick with Emma…"

Viktor's face fell. "Oh, no I understand."

"I'm fine, Ruby," Emma said, giving her the same shove she gave her mother. "Really, go dance."

"But…"

"I'm going to go get a drink. Go! Dance! Own this place!"

Ruby bit her lip and gave Emma an impulsive hug, whispering, "thanks" in her ear. She took Viktor's hand and he led her to where the other couples were dancing the same kind of elegant group dance Mary Margaret and David had taught her from their world.

* * *

Emma made her way to the punch bowl, hoping it was spiked, greeting those who stopped her to say hello.

There wasn't anyone around the table, which she was relieved by, so she planted herself in the corner, an unashamed wallflower, and watched her parents glide across the dance floor.

But then her eyes caught sight of something she _didn't_ want to see. Neal and Hook were making their ways toward her from opposite sides of the party.

_Shit._

Emma looked around, trying to find someone to save her. Hell, she would rather go play with Henry and his friends.

"You look perturbed."

Emma let out an undignified yelp and spun to find herself shoulder to shoulder with Jefferson.

"Jefferson?!" she exclaimed, holding a hand to her chest. "The hell you doing sneaking up on me like that?!"

He smirked and tipped his hat to her. "My apologies. I'd hoped to run into you this evening to well…apologize for my uncivilized behavior our last meeting."

"You mean when you kidnapped my best friend, tied her to a chair, drugged me, threatened me in order to make you a friggen hat, and then tried to shoot me?"

He nodded, as if all of that were just small faux pas. "I hope you realize I would never have harmed either of you. You're the Savior, and she your mother. I admit I was in a dark place then, but I only wanted you to break the spell so I could…" his eyes flicked over to where Grace was laughing at something Henry had said and his pompous attitude faded. "So I could get my Grace back."

As much as she hated to admit it, Emma believed Jefferson. She'd hadn't seen him as anything but a lonely, unstable man, but since learning the truth she saw that he was just desperate. A desperate parent. Damn it if she didn't know how _that _felt.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw that Neal was about to win the race to get to her.

"It would seem you're about to be the center of a fight for attention," Jefferson noted blandly. "How droll," Emma widened her eyes when he suddenly offered his hand. "Shall I help you escape?"

"Can't leave," Emma muttered. "I promised my mom."

"No, not leave, Princess, dance."

"That's what I'm trying to avoid."

Jefferson shrugged. "I thought you were trying to avoid dancing with _them_."

"Emma," Neal said, reaching her just as Hook did.

Hook shoved him with his shoulder. "Emma, Love, I was hoping I could steal you away for a dance," somehow Hook could make even _that_ sound sexual.

"I was here first, Hook," Neal growled.

Emma stared in horror as the two grown men fought over her like boys. Some women might would find it appealing, she just thought it was embarrassing.

"I'm not dancing with either of you," Emma said.

Hook's eyes sparkled, and Emma inwardly moaned when she realized he took that as a challenge. "I won't take no for an answer, Love!"

"Ignore him, Emma," Neal snapped.

Emma looked over at Jefferson who was shaking his head ruefully at the two. In a snap decision she grabbed his arm. "Come on, Jefferson, dance with me."

Smirking in victory and leaving the two men gaping like fish, she dragged Jefferson along like it'd been her idea to start with, and he seemed content to play along.

"Do you know how?" she asked when they reached the edge of the dance floor.

"Quite," Jefferson said, smiling.

Emma took a breath and dipped into an awkward curtsy when Jefferson bowed to her. They fell into the dance easily enough, and Emma found without much surprise that Jefferson was an excellent dancer. He led her gently with only the lightest of touches, taking none of the liberties he was prone to that night at his house. When she miss-stepped or faltered, he somehow managed to arrange the two of them so her mistakes didn't show.

She didn't trust him; how could she? But she didn't think he was dangerous. Whatever went on that night seemed like an act and this aloof, darkly humorous man, while probably still a front, seemed to her more like the real him.

The dance was flowing and not very fast, so she felt the need to say something. "So," she began. "I believe you said something about an apology?"

"Ah yes," Jefferson nodded. "Of course. I apologize, Emma. I'm sorry I kidnapped you and your mother. I'm sorry I drugged you with my tea. I'm sorry I aimed a gun at you. I am sorry and I regret terribly that I hit you, and I apologize profusely for pulling your hair."

Though his tone was teasing, Emma could tell his apologies were sincere. She nodded her acceptance.

"I forgive you for the kidnapping, drugging and gun, I guess I can see now you had reasons. Crazy as it was. But for hitting me? That one you're going to have to pay for."

Jefferson gasped in mock affront, gently taking her hand to spin her. "Wasn't your mother drop-kicking me out of a two story window payment enough?"

Emma smirked, oddly enough liking this banter. "She kicked you, not me."

"Fair enough," the two pivoted around another then Jefferson put a hand on her waist. "How about the hair pulling?" he asked with a flirtatious glint in his eye.

She would have punched him for that, should have really, but found herself in a playful mood. "Hmm, we'll see about that one…"

They joined hands like the other dancers, leaning in to one another side to side. Despite herself, Emma was enjoying dancing with Jefferson. From the corner of her eye she saw her parents dancing a few couples away, and could feel their gazes.

David was looking at them woefully while Mary Margaret looked out and out appalled. She realized how this must look, since the last Mary Margaret had heard from the Hatter she was sending him on a nice trip to pain-land. She tried to convey with her eyes that everything was okay, knowing she'd have a lot of explaining to do later. Besides, it was just one dance, that's all.

"By the way," Jefferson said lowly as the dance brought them closer together. "As radiant in that gown as you are, I do believe I prefer the leather."

To her own horror, she felt her face heat up. Something about the way his words rumbled in her ear made her think of things she _definitely_ shouldn't think about the man who spied on, drugged, an held her at gunpoint. And pulled her hair and smelled really good and…oh dammit.

To her relief and disappointment, the dance changed so that everyone switched partners. Jefferson released her with a wink before she found herself in the arms of Whale.

"How's it going?" she asked with a smile.

"Good I think," he said excitedly. "We're going to have dinner next weekend."

"That's great. I hope you'll treat her good, Whale," she said it good-naturedly, but the undertone of a threat was real.

"I want to prove to her that I'm not the same man I was," he said earnestly.

Emma smiled again, plenty pacified for now, and switched partners again.

"Gold…" Emma muttered, hesitantly taking his hand.

"Good evening Miss Swan," he dipped into an odd bow with a chaste kiss to her hand. She was honestly surprised to find him dancing, and must have looked it. "Much…encouragement from Lacey," he said as way of explanation. She didn't ask, nor did she want to know, just how Lacey "encouraged" him. "And a short-lived spell has my knee working properly for now."

"Must be, never seen you move this quickly."

"You didn't know me in my old days, Dearie."

"Hear your skin was green."

"A greenish gold, really."

Emma narrowed her eyes. She'd heard lots of tales about what Rumplestiltskin had been like, and didn't believe half of them. Regardless of what history told her about not believing. "Maybe that's the secret to getting Lacey to fall in love with you. You gotta be like how you used to."

"Turn my skin green and wear leather pants?"

Emma made a face. "Well, so long as _I_ don't have to see you in them, I definitely think as far as she's concerned, the leather pants may help."

Gold smirked, then made Emma jump out of her skin the way he spoke his next words, his voice going impossibly high-pitched like a child – a creepy child. "And then I suppose I should start prancing around the way I used to like this," he released her hands to strike a ridiculous pose, his hands flicking the air, then he giggled. He giggled. "Nnyaa!"

Emma faltered in her dance steps. "You're never allowed to do that again. Ever. I mean _ever_."

All at once he was Mr. Gold again, and he bowed once more. "Suits me, Dearie. It gets exhausting after a while anyway."

With a deep sigh of relief, Emma switched partners again, and saw Hook coming at her with a victorious gleam in his eye.

But he was circumvented suddenly by Mary Margaret, who broke the line and joined hands with Emma, leaving Hook with Gold. Both men chose that moment to leave the dance.

"And just what were you doing dancing with that madman?" Mary Margaret asked, roughly taking the lead.

"Gold was just giving me a terrifying little insight to what you guys had to deal with back there," Emma said flatly.

"Not _that_ madman, the one with the hat!"

"Jefferson?"

"Is that his name? Why were you dancing with him? Why is he even here?"

"I know, I know," Emma said, frowning when Mary Margaret unnecessarily yanked her arm. "He's Grace's father."

She blinked. "He is?"

"Yeah, and get this, he never lost his memory."

"_What_?"

"Yeah, that night all he tried to do was get me to believe in the curse. He's the Mad Hatter, but he went mad because he's been separated from his kid for ages. He had to live in that crazy Groundhog day you lived in with all his memories intact. And he said he was sorry, and that you have a hell of a kick."

Mary Margaret still looked disapproving, but her good nature won out. "Just tell me you're not into him."

"Fine, I won't tell you."

Mary Margaret narrowed her eyes, making Emma know that she would later regret that remark, but partners were switching again so she gave her an innocent little wave and found herself with Jefferson once more.

"Mom doesn't approve?"

Emma arched an eyebrow. "What's there to approve of? We're only dancing."

Jefferson didn't respond, only smiled, and the song drew to a close. He took off his hat and swept into a deep bow which Emma returned with considerably more confidence this time. He took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles and Emma's heart _definitely _didn't pick up speed at all.

"Until next time, mi' lady."

"Charming," she drolled.

Jefferson shot up straight and looked around in mock fear. "Your father?! Where? I'm sorry I kissed her hand I'll never do it again!"

Emma rolled her eyes to give her an excuse to look away so his expression wouldn't make her laugh.

Jefferson grinned like, well like a Cheshire and replaced his hat with a flourish. "Thank you for the dance, Emma, now I'm off to find my little lady."

Emma smiled genuinely as the Hatter strolled away.

"We saw that."

Emma turned to find both Mary Margaret and Ruby giving her knowing looks with folded arms.

"What?"

Ruby grinned and licked her lips and Mary Margaret shook her head, though the corners of her lips quirked upward.

"You're both crazy."

At this Ruby threw back her head and laughed. "We're all mad, here!"

* * *

**So like I said, I have a lot of ideas for the ball coming up! I'm open to requests if you have anything particular you might like to see.**

**And since I love my readers, I'll let you in on a little of what's in store:**

**Emma finds someone else to help her avoid Hook and Neal.**

**Henry has a hard time telling Grace what he thinks of her.**

**Fun with Gold and Lacey.**

**Fun with Gold and David. (I will always collect the rent!)**

**Regina comes to the ball.**

**Ruby and her "surprises."**

**And...**

**David gets that dance with his girl. :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everyone!**

**First I want to say how SORRY I am that it's been so long since I've updated! I hate it when stories I love disappear, but I haven't dropped this, rest assured! I apologize for not updating Powerful, too. In all honestly, after the epic two-part finale, my muse for both these stories slipped. One big reason is because before the finale, I didn't like Neal for Emma at all...now suddenly I've joined the ranks of SwanFiredom. So I needed to let both of these sit for a bit so I could kind of refocus because at least for this one I'm not going to change the fact that Neal is being a butt even though I now love him. :) I also just got a new job so...yeah...life...**

**So, sorry again to those who have been missing this. I won't let the next chapter take so long! I'll also be updating Powerful soon. I wish I could give you a nice long chapter to say I'm sorry, but alas this is pretty short. Hope you like it though! Cool stuff to come! **

**(Side note: the song choice for this chapter is VERY CHEESY. Just want you to know that I acknowledge this and I have no regrets.)**

* * *

"Want me to get my sword?" David asked as Emma not-so-suavely avoided Neal for a fifth time.

As amusing as she found the sudden thought of David backing Neal and Hook into a wall, pointing a sword at their throats and threatening them to quit asking his daughter to dance was, Emma shook her head. "Thanks, David, but no thanks. I know I'm acting like a child. It wouldn't be that big a deal to dance with them, but the fact that they have a _bet _going to see who would be first… I just can't allow either of them to win that one."

Emma and David stood along the edge of the ball watching Mary Margaret coo over Ashley's baby, Alexandra. She had the little blonde one-year-old on her hip, trying to get her to say, "Snow."

"Still, I don't like that they're harassing you. This is your ball, you shouldn't be bothered."

"_My _ball?" Emma asked. "What do you mean _my_ ball?"

She must have raised her voice, because Mary Margaret looked over at them, and gave David a stern look.

"You know what I mean," David said, flapping his hands dismissively. "I mean _our _ball. I just mean that you should be having fun, not having to deal with wannabe suitors."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, noting the way he was nervously shifting his eyes back and forth between her and Mary Margaret. But she elected not to say anything. For now. "Well, don't worry about me. I can handle those two."

Emma left her father and walked over to where Mary Margaret was still fussing over Alexandra.

"Kid sure has grown," Emma noted, smiling at the baby.

"I can't get over how fast," Ashley said, beaming. "I felt like I was pregnant with her forever."

"You…kinda were…" Emma mumbled.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Mary Margaret breathed, gazing at the little girl.

Emma frowned without meaning to, watching the look of wonder on her mother's face as she held the golden-haired child in her arms.

Mary Margaret looked up, and noticing her frown, reached out to touch Emma's shoulder, her eyes questioning. Emma only smiled reassuringly and gave Alexandra a tiny handshake before walking away to rid herself of the embarrassing and unpleasant emotions that were taking over.

If Mary Margaret wanted to go after her, she wisely decided that it wasn't the time or place.

* * *

Emma strolled around, grabbing a mini cupcake off of a passing tray and absently looking for Henry. She didn't really mind that she'd barely seen him so far that night, as she was happy he was making friends. But still, she was used to having her little ally around.

Even though she cared for everyone in the town greatly, looking around at all the faces she realized she didn't really have that many friends she felt all that comfortable just walking up to and start talking.

Ruby was with Viktor, Henry was with his friends, and David and Mary Margaret had the entire place to mingle with. Even Belle who, though she didn't know her too well but rather liked, was currently acting like a girl in high school who she hated the guts of. She toyed with the thought of seeking out Jefferson again, but she was afraid of what _that_ may imply to him, plus she was wary of opening up that can of worms if Mary Margaret found out.

_Eh, what does it matter? I do better alone anyway._

Finally satisfied to wander around and people watch, she failed to notice Neal sneak up on her.

"Seriously, Neal?" Emma groaned. "This isn't even funny anymore. Leave me alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry," he said. "You're right, this is stupid. I'm sorry I made that bet. Hook he…he brings out that side of me I guess," he smiled sheepishly, and she felt her defenses lower. "But I can't stand to see you hiding over here alone."

She shrugged. "I'm just not that comfortable in crowds. You know that."

"Yeah, I do. Wanna get out of here?"

Emma scowled at him. "No, I don't. It'd hurt my parents if I left."

"Then at least come dance with me…as friends I mean!"

She narrowed her eyes until they were slits. She knew Neal well. And she knew a plot when she saw one. "Son of a bitch."

"What?"

She pointed a finger at his face. "You are NOT winning that bet!"

"Oh come on, Emma!" he implored, following her as she stalked away. "Wouldn't you rather ME win than him?"

Emma ignored him, but saw that Hook was headed for her now as well. All at once her eyes landed on who just might be her salvation.

She marched up to him, shamelessly hiding behind his impressive girth.

"Everything okay, Emma?" Anton asked, turning from where he was talking with a couple of the dwarves.

"See those men over there? Hook and the other guy?"

"Oh, yeah, I see them. Are they bothering you?"

Now, maybe it was too much for her to allow her father to defend her, but Anton…Anton was a different story. They had an understanding. Suddenly, and without question, he along with Doc, Dopey and Happy, were standing in a line in front of her, arms crossed.

Hook hesitated at the sight of the former giant, but Neal paid them no mind.

"Emma, I'm sorry!" Neal said.

"Can we help you?" Happy asked, as menacingly as a dwarf named Happy can.

"Uh, could you excuse us?" Neal asked.

"No!" Anton boomed and stepped forward. "You can run along now. If Emma doesn't want to talk to you, than Emma isn't going to talk to you!"

"Mate…perhaps we should listen," Hook said, backing away.

"Don't _mate _me, they're not going to do anything."

"Oh no?"

Both men spun around to find Grumpy, Bashful and Sleepy behind him. Holding pickaxes.

When they turned back again, suddenly Anton and the others were inexplicably also holding pickaxes.

And behind them, Emma was grinning from ear to ear. "Want to ask me to dance now?"

Neal and Hook looked at each other, and made a hasty retreat.

The boys laughed, patting each other on the back. "Thanks, guys," Emma said.

"Anytime," Leroy said, winking at her. "That's what we're here for. Now if you'll excuse me, Nova promised me a dance."

"Why are they bugging you?" Anton asked.

Emma rolled her eyes. "They got a bet going to see who can get me to dance with them first."

Anton made a face. "Well that's silly," he looked out at the dancers, a thoughtful look on his face. "I've never danced before."

"Ever?"

"No…" he chuckled. "I spent half my life with my brothers and the other half…" he trailed off, but Emma knew what he meant.

She really would have been happy to stay off the dance floor the rest of the night, but something about big, sweet Anton gave her other ideas. "Let's fix that, Big Guy."

Grabbing his arm and ignoring his half-hearted protests, Emma dragged Anton into the throng of dancers. It was a medium-paced and modern-world song, therefor it needed no special dance-steps. Emma had to shake her head in amusement at the song choice though. Who at the bandstand even knew of this song?

_So no one told you life was gonna be this way,_

_Your life's a joke you're broke, your love life's DOA…_

Anton was nervous and stiff, and Emma basically just held his hand and danced around him.

"Atta boy, Tiny!" Leroy shouted encouragingly as he led an ecstatic-looking Nova.

After a few minutes, Anton loosened up and began to smile and enjoy himself. Emma laughed despite herself, the full-throated kind she very rarely indulged in. She eventually became aware the all seven of the dwarfs were around her, having found various women to dance with them. Mary Margaret was with Dopey (she honestly had no idea what his cursed name was…she wasn't entirely sure he had one,) grinning at her from ear to ear.

_And when it hasn't been your day, your week, your month or even your year,_

Happy playfully bumped her with his hip, and Bashful might have said something along the lines of, "You're a great dancer," but he spoke so quietly she couldn't hear him.

Suddenly, Anton surprised her by effortlessly picking her up, spinning her around as his new brothers and her mother cheered.

And that was when it hit her; the dwarfs were using this to let her know that just as they'd accepted Anton as one of their legendary own, they were accepting her. It wasn't just Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs anymore. It was surprising to her how amazing that felt.

_I'll be there for you,_

_When the rain starts to pour._

_I'll be there for you,_

_Like I've been there before._

_I'll be there for you,_

'_Cause you're there for me too._

By the time the song ended, they were all laughing and playing around to the point that they were barely even dancing. Anton reached down for a hug, thanking her for teaching him to dance.

"Don't mention it," she said. "And thanks all you guys for your help with Hook and Neal."

"What're friends for?" Leroy said, and before she could blink Emma found herself in a massive dwarf group hug.

It was weird, but not a bad weird, and Emma smiled happily.

Mary Margaret chuckled, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "It's a tradition of ours!"

* * *

Emma and Mary Margaret made their way back to David. "Looking good out there, ladies!" he said. He looked at Emma and opened his mouth to say something more, when a hush went over the crowd.

Regina stood at the entrance, in a long midnight blue gown and heavy black eye makeup, while everyone present froze. "Sorry I'm late," she said, a smirk on her lips.

"Very funny," David mumbled.

Regina spotted them almost instantly and crossed the area to them. "Relax, I'm not here to destroy anyone's happiness. For now. I hoped to spend time with my son."

"You welcome to stay," Mary Margaret said, her eyes stern. "So long as you behave yourself."

Regina rolled her eyes.

"Good luck finding him," Emma said. "Henry's been off with his friends all night."

"We'll see about that," Regina said and wandered off.

"Between her, Gold and Hook, how long do you think it'll be before this place turns into WWE Smackdown?"

Mary Margaret said "It won't." At the same time David said "An hour."

And suddenly, Emma no longer wished she could go home. This party was just getting started.


	10. Guy Talk

**Surprise! Quick update! Just a little scene here, featuring my very favorite BROTP, I Will Always Collect the Rent! Having a conversation about the women in their lives.**

**Enjoy! And thanks for the reviews!**

* * *

David watched Emma and Snow dance with Anton and the dwarfs with a smile on his face. Every time he looked at Emma, he saw so much of her mother in her. Snow told him constantly that Emma was a carbon copy of him, and while that pleased him to no end, he had a hard time seeing it. But looking for it was becoming a favorite pastime.

She definitely inherited his hair, as well as eye color. But her face was Snow's, her spirit, heart and stubbornness hers as well. He supposed that instead of Snow's deceptive daintiness, Emma possessed an assured walk and stance that were like his.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when he noticed Gold approaching him. He tensed automatically, as Gold rarely sought anyone out unless it was for unpleasant reasons.

To his surprise though, Gold merely nodded politely and stood beside him as if to watch the dancers along with him. Or…was he standing _behind_ him?

"Uh, Gold," David greeted stiffly.

"David," Gold acknowledged.

"Where's Lacey?"

David was surprised again when Gold actually looked _uncomfortable_. "Erm, last I checked she was talking with Ruby."

David told himself over and over in his head to not say another word, to not show curiosity, to just drop it and walk away…but being David, he had to know. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course," Gold scoffed in indignation. "Why would you ask that?"

"Uh, maybe because you look like you're hiding from Lacey?"

Gold scowled, the scowl that normally sent people running for the hills, but it ceased to scare David the day the curse broke. "I am _not_ hiding from Lacey."

"Oh, okay, see you later then," David made a show of beginning to walk away, pausing when Gold grabbed his sleeve.

"Oh alright, alright, I'm hiding. The great and powerful Dark One is hiding from a 100 pound, 5 foot 3 slip of a girl. Are you satisfied?"

David held back a guffaw with mostly success. "Kind of. But _why _are you hiding from her?"

"Because, she keeps trying to drag me out to do one of those disgusting pantomimes of sex this world tries to call a dance. Can you honestly see me doing such a thing?"

"I'd rather not think about it," David admitted. "But what they're doing now isn't so bad, it doesn't really take any skill. Not like the dances from our world. If _you_ don't dance with her, she'll just find someone else to."

Gold looked borderline nauseated.

"Don't worry so much," he wasn't sure _why_ he was trying so hard to reassure his sometimes enemy, but when the guy got that look on his face, David's natural instinct to fix everything couldn't help but kick in. "I've seen the way she looks at you. Like she wants to…I dunno, _eat _you."

"And has," Gold mumbled.

On one hand, David wanted to pretend he didn't hear that, and yet…he patted Gold on the back anyway. His eyes drifted back to his wife, whom he wouldn't mind taking a bite out of as she twirled around Dopey with a saucy grin on her face. Dopey looked like he was in Heaven. _Enjoy it while it lasts. _David thought wryly to himself.

And then since he couldn't seem to go two minutes without making sure she was okay and at least marginally enjoying herself, he looked back at Emma who indeed seemed to be having fun.

"I must say," Gold commented. "I've been rather amused watching the little Savior reject my son over and over tonight. Not nearly as amused, of course, as watching her reject Hook," David laughed. "She did very well with the elaborate greeting when they arrived earlier."

David nodded. "That she did. Emma's grown this past year. I know that sounds dumb of me to say, I barely know her. But she has, this year she's really grown, opened up."

"Become the hero she was meant to be," Gold agreed.

They stood silent for a moment, watching the blonde-haired warrior laugh as Anton spun her around in the air, before Gold spoke again, a knowing look in his eye. "Are you going to ask your daughter to dance?"

David frowned at him. "I tried…but I don't think she's comfortable enough with me yet. It's so hard. I love her more than anything, but I don't know how to be her _father_. I don't even think she wants that. And I know she cares about me, but she isn't at ease with me like she is with Snow," why he was spilling this all to Rumplestiltskin when he could barely even get it out to his wife he didn't know. But he appeared to be listening intently, so David continued. "We've settled into an awkward friendship, which is great. If all I ever am to her is her friend I'll be more than happy. But I want her to _trust _me, to be comfortable around me. I want her to know how much she means to me without scaring her off with too much emotion. I don't know what to do."

"Keep doing what you're doing," Gold advised quietly. "You're letting her set the pace. Accepting such adoration from a man her own age that has nothing to do with romance can't be something she is accustomed to, so she needs time to acclimate. Give it time."

"That's what Snow says," David admitted dejectedly. "But you know me, I'm not the sit-back-and-do-nothing type."

Gold chuckled. "Indeed you are not. Well, while you don't want to push her, you don't want her to think you've given up. Perhaps a little dance is just what you need."

David gave Gold a ghost of a smile and they fell back into a comfortable silence.

"I _do _know you," Gold blurted suddenly, sounding almost appalled.

"What?"

"You said, "you know me," and I do. Good Lord, when did I get to know you so well?"

David narrowed his eyes. "How about when you manipulated every aspect of my life?"

Gold responded by rolling his eyes. "Do you really want to complain? I handed you that woman out there on a silver platter. _And _I made sure you wooed while her looking your best!"

"Yeah," David sighed. "The outfit was a nice touch. I guess I do owe ya that one."

David and Rumplestiltskin met each other's eyes, a sudden understanding blooming between them. They shook hands, smiling approvingly at one another.

"Here comes Lacey," David said, nudging him with his elbow and grinning wickedly. "She looks _hungry_!"

Gold groaned in what might have been either exhaustion or terror. "I'm too old for this."

"Buck up, man, and go make that woman love you! Even if it takes all night!"

Lacey got to Gold and looped her arms through one of his. "There you are! Did you run off on me?"

"No, Dearie," Gold insisted hastily. "I was just…"

"Helping me out with something," David interrupted. "He gave me some advice. Thanks man, I'm gonna give it a try, but I don't know if Mary Margaret will be up for it, if you know what I mean! I'm not as brave as you."

Gold stared at him in confusion while Lacey's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Do tell."

David waved her off with a grin, as if embarrassed, and Gold's expression slackened with understanding.

"Come on," Lacey said huskily, tugging on Gold's arm. "Come get me a drink and you can tell me about this advice you gave David."

Gold trailed behind Lacey like a dog on a leash, shooting a frightened look back at David, who only smirked and gave him thumbs up.

At least she wasn't asking to dance!

The song ended and he smiled as his wife and daughter made their way back over to him. He decided right then that he'd get Emma to dance with him. So help him.


	11. Henry and Grace and a Cheering Squad

**Wow, I'm gonna spoil y'all with the quick updates! ;) Hehe. This is just another quick extra scene. It was originally going to be part of a longer chapter but I decided, short as it is, it could stand alone. But in one little chapter we have some Regina/Henry bonding as well as Henry/Grace adorableness! Enjoy!**

* * *

Henry tagged alongside Grace and Pinocch, snatching food when they found it, eavesdropping on conversations when they were interesting, sniggering at couples who hid in shadows to make-out when they thought no one could see them. Basically being how most children are at adults' parties; invisible.

"The dancers are so beautiful," Grace said dreamily.

Pinocch wrinkled his nose. "If you can call Grumpy beautiful…"

"Hey Pinocch," Henry said. "I think they just brought out more of those mini hot dogs!"

The boy was at attention immediately, sniffing out food. "Where?! Boy, this stuff is WAY better than in the Enchanted Forest!" he wandered off, following his nose.

Grace giggled. "Well, he's right. The food here _is_ better."

Henry shrugged, feeling a little glum in the way he always did when the other kids shared stories of their lives in the Enchanted Forest, when he could only read about it and imagine it.

"I hope you can see it someday," she continued. "Even though it wasn't _all _good, it was beautiful there."

Once again, Henry felt like there was something he could say here to Grace, but once again, his mouth wouldn't catch up to his mind. "Um…yeah. I wish I could see it, too."

They stood together awkwardly, and Henry actually started looking for Pinocch to come back and fill the silence. He was just about to suggest they go find him when Grace suddenly paled, her eyes going wide.

"What's wrong?" Henry turned around and saw what was frightening his friend. Regina looked like she was looking for someone, probably him. "Oh, don't worry, Grace. She won't hurt you. She's been a lot better lately."

"Papa says I'm to stay away from her…" she said nervously.

Henry knew Grace's story, both from the book and from her personally, so he really couldn't blame her for being scared of his mom. "Let me go talk to her, I'll be back in just a minute!"

Grace wrung her hands and took several steps back as Henry turned and walked toward Regina. "Mom!" he called.

Regina's face lit up, in the way it only did for him. "Henry! I've been looking all over for you!"

"You came!" he said, smiling genuinely.

"I did indeed. Are you having fun?" her eyes flickered over his shoulder to Grace, who still eyed them nervously. "Is that Grace? She looks lovely tonight."

"Yeah," Henry said instantly, but then blushed when he realized what he was agreeing with.

Regina's eyes lit with sudden understanding. "Ah. Have you asked her to dance?"

If it were possible, he blushed even redder. "Uh…no…I think she wanted me to…but…"

Regina smiled, leaning down so she was more on his level. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Henry, just ask her."

"But what if I mess up? What if I step on her feet or say something dumb?"

Regina briefly smoothed back his hair, but it was just a quick touch, as if she realized he didn't want to be treated like a little kid. He appreciated that. "Then just remember that she is as nervous as you. Trust me, I was a young girl…once."

"What do I _say_?"

She smiled. "Start with what you feel, Henry. Plus, it never hurts to tell a girl how pretty you think she is."

Henry took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling. "Okay. Here I go," he hesitated, unsure of leaving her alone when he knew no one else was likely to talk to her. "But what about you?"

Regina smirked. "Oh, I'll be fine. Just be sure you come see me later. Now go on!"

Henry smiled and turned from her, missing the proud, bittersweet look she gave his back.

"Hey," he called to Grace, trying to bolster his courage.

Grace sagged with relief once he started to walk back. "H…how's your mom?"

He felt a funny little fluttering in his chest. He thought she was really nice for asking about his mom, even though he knew she was afraid of her.

"She's fine. She just came for the party, not for bad stuff or anything. Um…Grace, can I ask you something?"

Grace blushed and smoothed her dress. "Yes, Henry?"

"Will you…uh…" from the corner of his eye he saw Pinocch making his way back to them. Before he could inwardly groan though, his mom intercepted, holding the younger boy back by the back of his shirt while he simply flailed about in confusion. Henry smiled and tried again. "Do you wanna dance?"

Grace's smile made that funny fluttering feeling turn into kind of a sickening fluttering feeling, and he wiping his sweaty palms on his pants before offering one of them to her.

Trying his upmost hardest to mimic the way his Gramps treated Grams, Henry guided Grace until they were on the very edge of the dance floor.

Blushing profusely, he timidly placed one hand high on her waist, and the other held hers. They stood straight, as far apart as they could stand while keeping their hands together.

Once he felt like he could command his feet to move, he started to step, and they began to sway stiffly in time to the music.

_Today was a fairytale,_

_You've got a smile that takes me to another planet,_

_Every move you make, everything you say is right,_

_Today was a fairytale._

It was awkward.

It was embarrassing.

Why was he doing this?

She smiled brilliantly.

Oh, that was why.

They pivoted slowly, still keeping themselves pulled apart. Over her shoulder he caught sight of his mom again, watching in amusement, still holding on to Pinocch who didn't look scared, just less than amused. And then to his surprise, his _other_ mom was at her side, watching him with a grin and whispering to Regina.

Regina whispered back, and then they were both grinning from ear to ear. Then his grandparents were suddenly there…and his dad…and…his Grampa Rumple?

They were all standing together, amiably, not fighting, watching him dance with Grace and smiling. His dad offered him thumbs up and his Gramps shook his fists in the air in congratulations while Emma and Grams did little happy dances.

"What is it?" Grace asked.

He shook his head, turning them so he wouldn't get embarrassed by his family's rooting, when in actuality the fact that they were all rooting for him _together_ just made him happy. "Nothing," from his position now, he saw Jefferson watching them like a hawk. He made a gesture, pointing at his eyes and back at Henry, his expression no-nonsense. Henry turned again.

_Time slows down,_

_Whenever you're around…_

Grace started to loosen up, her arm becoming more relaxed on his shoulder, and that helped him to relax. Before long he wasn't even thinking of the dance, and only that he was having fun with his friend. They moved a little closer together. When she stepped on his toe and flushed in embarrassment, he only chuckled in a way to let her know he didn't mind a bit.

"I…meant to tell you…" he stammered, wishing he could talk the way Gramps does.

"Tell me what?"

"That…um…you look really pretty tonight, Grace."

_But can you feel the magic in the air?_

_It must have been the way you kissed me._

_Fell in love when I first saw you standing there,_

_It must have been the way_

_Today was a fairytale._

Before he was quite ready for it the song ended and he and Grace immediately dropped their hands and shuffled nervously, looking at everything except each other.

"Henry?" Grace said quietly.

"Yeah?"

Before he could even register what was happening, Grace was leaning forward and her lips were touching his. His stomach did a somersault. It was over almost before it started, and she pulled away quickly, blushing. "Thank you for the dance."

His voice no longer knew how to work, so he just nodded dumbly and she giggled before darting away.

He faintly heard cheers coming from behind him, but he didn't dare turn around and acknowledge the fact that his entire extended family just witnessed his first kiss.

"Gross!" Pinocch sidled up beside him. "She kissed you! Yuck!"

Henry playfully punched the younger kid on the shoulder. "You'll understand when you're older."

"I don't think I want to."

Henry laughed, watching Grace skip over to her father who despite is warning glares at Henry, was smiling down at her happily. For the first time ever in his life, all of that mushy stuff that happened in his book made some sense. "Come on, Pinocch, let's go find some more of those cupcakes."


	12. One Step Closer

**LADIES, GENTLEMEN, ONCERS OF ALL AGES...The chapter many of you have waited for is here!**

**It's Father/Daughter Dance time!**

**I let this set for like a week, continually going over it to make sure I was satisfied. I really hope you guys like it, since I know several of you have been really anticipating the fluff fest.**

**I apologize for falling way behind on responding to reviews. Please know that I love and appreciate every single one of them! Every time I get one more it makes me more excited to update, and you guys have been so sweet. So thank you! **

**The Ball isn't over yet, though, I have more in store for you! But for now, enjoy!**

* * *

Emma was drawn to where Regina was standing, worried about the fact that she had August by the nape of his shirt and the boy was trying futilely to get free.

"Uh, Regina, you know that's not Henry, right?"

Regina leveled Emma with her signature glare and jerked her head forward. "I'm only trying to assure that my son has a moment of privacy. The puppet keeps wanting to go over there."

Emma followed Regina's gaze to where Henry was dancing with Grace and her cheeks immediately widened into a grin. They were moving stiffly and awkwardly, as all eleven-year-olds dance, and looking completely besotted with one another. She leaned over so Regina could hear her without having to yell. "Aw, he worked up the nerve!"

Regina nodded. "That he did. I told him to just ask her, and tell her that she's pretty. That never fails."

Unabashedly staring at Henry's "moment of privacy," Emma was unsurprised when she found herself flanked by her parents and Neal. Even Gold and Lacey sidled up to watch, with Hook appearing on the OTHER side as to avoid being too close to Gold.

"Can I go now?" August whined, wiggling against Regina's hold.

"No!" everyone said in unison.

"That's my boy!" Neal exclaimed, shooting a thumbs up in his son's direction as Henry peeked over at them.

They all erupted into quiet cheers when Grace finished their dance with an innocent peck to Henry's mouth.

"I can't believe this is already happening," Emma moaned.

"Tell me about it," Regina agreed, releasing August who scrambled straight to Henry. Meanwhile Henry himself was making a show of deliberately ignoring his family.

"They grow up so fast," Mary Margaret said, winking at Emma.

Emma smiled at her mother then looked up at her father, who had a sort of faraway look on his face. She knew that look; both of her parents got it when they were thinking about something in particular that they would have liked to have been a part of in her life. She supposed even the dreaded first kiss or first boyfriend was something they desperately wished they could have been around for.

"Hey, hey," Ruby's voice echoed across the party, and she tapped on the microphone on the stage to get everyone's attention. "Is everybody having a great time?" the crowd cheered their answer. "Good! Well, the night ain't done, yet! I'm pretty sure either Leroy or Lacey have spiked the punch, so we're about to have some real fun!" everyone laughed and sent playfully accusing looks at Leroy and Lacey, who pointed at one another.

"It's ten o'clock, and you know what that means!" Most people smiled in understanding, while Emma frowned, not liking being the only one in the dark. "Now, as most of you I'm sure remember, we have a very special tradition in the Enchanted Forest. It is said that it goes back as far as Snow's great, great, great grandparents and is believed to be good luck! When the clock strikes ten, you take a person who is important to you and participate in this very special dance. So all you need to do is grab a special guy or girl in your life and head on up here for The King and Queen's Waltz!"

A soft, melodic tune began to play, and men and women rejoined the dance floor. While mostly couples, Emma noticed several cases of "that special guy or girl" being someone's family, most notably Jefferson as he took Grace's hand.

Having escaped August once more, Henry made his way over to them, but his smile faltered when he looked back and forth between Emma and Regina.

Emma hesitated, and glanced back at David who was taking Mary Margaret's hand, but was looking at Emma hopefully.

Making up her mind, Emma caught Henry's eyes and jerked her head toward Regina then back at David. Understanding immediately, Henry lifted his hand to Regina.

"Wanna dance, Mom?"

Regina looked like she could cry, and gratefully took Henry's hand. Emma hadn't even been aware Regina was capable of smiling like that.

_Heart beats fast,_

_Color and promises,_

_How to be brave,_

_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?_

Emma turned fully to her parents, catching them before they went off to the dance. She asked Mary Margaret a question with her eyes, and her mom beamed and took a step back, elbowing David in the process.

_But watching you stand alone,_

_All of my doubt,_

_Suddenly goes away somehow,_

Emma bit her lip and looked up at her father, at his barely concealed excitement, still trying to come to terms with the fact that the young man staring back at her was her _father. _She fiddled with her hands impatiently. She didn't have the nerve to ask, but she could have the nerve to accept.

_One step closer..._

Grinning from ear to ear, David offered her his hand, in his most "charming" manner. "May I have this dance, Emma?"

With one last glance at her teary-eyed mom, Emma placed her hand in her father's much bigger one, and let him lead her into the dance.

It was a slow waltz, and an easy one that she could thankfully keep up with without thinking about it. She was a little surprised that the song they chose was a modern one, but she supposed that maybe that was how they were trying to be "both."

_Time stands still,_

_Beauty in all she is,_

_I will be brave,_

_I will not let anything take away,_

_What's standing in front of me,_

David, bless his heart, looked just as nervous and uncomfortable as Emma felt. They both observed the other couples, not quite able to look at one another. With her hand on his shoulder, Emma mentally remarked on just how tall her father was.

_Every breath,_

_Every hour has come to this._

_One step closer…_

Emma felt his eyes on her, so she took a breath and looked up. She was relieved to find sparkling humor shining back at her. "First time I danced at a ball I stepped all over Princess Abigail's feet. She swore never to dance with me again."

Emma laughed. "First time I danced with a boy, he leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head at the last second and wound up head-butting him. His nose bled for an hour."

David snorted. "Serves him right!"

_I have died everyday waiting for you,_

_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you,_

_For a thousand years,_

_I'll love you for a thousand more…_

"I'm proud of you, you know."

Emma furrowed her brow. "For what?"

He chuckled. "For a lot of things, actually. But specifically tonight I'm proud of the way you handled yourself when you and Snow got here. Believe me, I know how overwhelming that can be. All that attention focused on you? Makes you just want to go and hide. Like you can't possibly understand what you'd done to deserve it. But you did wonderfully. I'm really impressed."

Emma was amazed by how accurately he described her feelings, and blushed under his praise. "Yeah, I guess going from shepherd to prince, you know how I feel. How did you deal with it?"

"Oh, it was awful when I was posing as James, but after I married your mother it got easier. She's such a humble, kind-hearted little thing, but when she's standing before her people she just exudes confidence and power. I learned from her. You, on the other hand, have it naturally." Emma shrugged that off "No, I mean it, you're more like her than you know."

"She says I'm like _you_."

He grinned. "I like to think you have some of me too. But really? You may have my hair, eyes, and tact and your mother's stubbornness, kindness and chin, but you, Emma Swan, are most definitely a person all your own. I know we can't take credit for how you turned out, but you should know…I'm really proud of how you did."

Emma averted her eyes, not sure how to handle this much emotional honesty. And of one thing she was certain; he was being nothing but purely honest, and that was staggering.

"Ok, Em, I'm gonna say one more thing, and I swear, afterward we can go back to talking about guns and if you never want me to get mushy again just say so and I won't. Deal?"

Emma tilted her head and waited, the corners of her mouth quirking up. He may not know her as well as Mom did, but he certainly understood her.

"I'm so proud that you're my daughter."

Emma looked down at her feet, unable meet his eyes again, lest he see the tears in hers. Hesitatingly, haltingly, she leaned forward until her head was resting on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen, as if surprised, but then he relaxed and slowly brought up his hand to cradle the back of her head.

Like he did 29 years ago.

He must have been feeling especially brave, because she felt him press a quick kiss to her hair. "From the moment I found out you were going to be a girl, I so looked forward to dancing with you at your first ball. Sorry it took 29 years."

Emma sniffed, allowing herself to be comforted by the heartbeat beneath her cheek. "It's okay. Better late than never," she wouldn't tell him, at least not this night, but this was her dream come true too. Ever since she was a little girl, staying home the night of the Daddy/Daughter dance at school.

_I have died everyday waiting for you,_

_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you,_

_For a thousand years,_

_I'll love you for a thousand more._

_All along I believed I would find you,_

_Time has brought your heart to me,_

_I have loved you for a thousand years,_

_I'll love you for a thousand more._

"Dav…Dad?"

She smirked as he jumped in surprise, much as her mother did. "Y…Yeah?" she could clearly hear the smile in his voice, even though she wasn't looking at him.

"I'm proud to be your daughter, too."

Emma smiled wider as he hugged her tighter, forcing back discomfort when she felt a tear hit the top of her head.

Yes, it was still weird, but more and more Emma simply didn't care. She didn't care if people heard her call her best friend Mom, didn't care that she was sharing her first father/daughter dance with a guy her own age. It was weird, but that was beginning to be okay with her. She had a mom and a dad, what she'd wanted her entire life, and what was more was she was _loved, _and she loved them. She loved them as her family, she loved them as her best friends in the entire world.

And dammit, she was happy, so screw the weirdness.

When the song ended they pulled apart, almost reluctantly, but David kept hold of her hand. It was then that they realized however, to both of their horror, that they were alone on the dance floor. Everyone else was just watching, and there wasn't a dry eye in the place.

Mom had a camera, clicking it just in time to capture their identical expressions.

"Dammit," they muttered in unison.

Taking pity on them, bless her, Ruby took to the stage again. "Okay, folks, let's get some punch going on here and _dance_!"

The song changed to another of the old world dances, and everyone quickly forgot about the father and daughter who'd just shared a monumental moment.

"Thanks for the dance, Emma," David said as they exited the dance floor.

Emma didn't answer, but throwing caution to the wind, she spun to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck for a hug and a kiss on his cheek.

By the time Mary Margaret found them David was close to tears himself, and he and his wife exchanged happy, tearful expressions. "What do you ladies say we go get some of this spiked punch?" he asked, clearing the emotion out of his throat.

"I'm in," Mary Margaret said, and pointed in the direction they were going. "To the punch!"

"Let's," Emma droned then leaned in to her dad. "Mom's already been in the punch, hasn't she?"

"Indeed she has, my dear," David answered with a chuckle.


	13. Middle Names and Push It! Part 2

**You guys are officially the best readers/reviewers ever! I'm so happy that everyone is having as much fun with this fic as I am! **

**I debated about actually including the first part of this chapter. Let's just say it was born of boredom from having to stay home from work due to Tropical Storm Andrea. (Funnily named as I am also Andrea, lol) I'm not sure if you guys will find it funny or just plain out of character. But hey, they're drunk, so keep that in mind!**

**I have about one more chapter of The Ball left, and then you guys can decide if you want me to keep on with the music-inspired fluff or wrap it up. **

**Thanks so much for reading!**

**(Also, if any of you know me on Tumblr, there's a tiny shout out to some of y'all, see if you catch it!)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Where's my girl?!" Snow exclaimed, weaving around people unsteadily.

While drunk Mary Margaret had been kind of depressing, Emma was quite certain that there was nothing in the world more amusing than a drunk Snow White.

"Here, Mommy Dearest," Emma called back, feeling rather tipsy herself.

"I'm pretty sure this is like, 10% punch, 80% vodka right now," Snow said with only a slight slur and handed Emma another cup.

"Don't you two think you should take it easy?" asked David, the involuntary DD, with a smirk on his face.

"NO!" both women yelled.

"Hey," Emma began, "I had to walk in here in a ball gown and _heels_ and endure everyone genuflect…ter…ing…" she shook her head at her inability to get the word out. "I deserve to drink!"

"Here, here!" Lacey called from…somewhere.

"Miss Swan," Regina said, having apparently materialized out of a fern, making Emma jump out of her skin. "I'm not sure if I want my son seeing his mother getting trashed at a party."

"Oh get your panties un-twisted," Snow blurted, and Emma nearly did a spit-take while David doubled over and Gold looked over from where he was standing a few feet away, perking up like a groundhog.

"Ex_cuse _me?" Regina spoke lowly, with a definite warning.

"You heard me," Snow leaned in, whispering a name as if it were the worst of curse words. "Gina."

She _may_ have meant to pronounce it _Geena._ But she didn't.

"I told you never to call me that," Regina seethed.

Snow batted her lashes innocently."Would you rather I call you Step-Mother?"

Emma wondered briefly if the queen's head would explode. Somewhere Viktor made a cat-fight noise.

Instead, Regina only gave her signature Smirk of Doom and stepped closer until her nose almost touched Snow's. "Have it your way, _Dorkus._"

Snow's eyes flew open wide. "_How did you find out?!"_

"Your father told me."

"Wait," Emma held up her hand. "Who's Dorkus?"

Regina's Smirk of Doom cranked up a notch. "Snow's middle name."

"_What?!" _David exclaimed. "Since when do you have a middle name?"

"_Dorkus_?!" Emma wheezed, laughing too hard to breath. "_Dorkus?!"_

"It was my grandmother's name!" Snow defended with her hands on her hips. "My mother didn't want to name me that, but my father insisted. So they compromised."

"AND THAT COMPRIMISE WAS TO NAME YOU SNOW DORKUS WHITE?!"

"Actually, Snow White _is _my first name," Snow said miserably. "So technically it's Snow White Dorkus."

"You never told me!" David said indignantly. "How could you not tell me your middle name?"

Snow glared at him. "Oh no, _Charming_, you are _not _going to talk to _me_ about names!"

"ARE YOU SURE YOUR PARENTS WEREN'T THE EVIL ONES?!"

"Shut it, Emma, before I give _you _a new middle name!"

Emma blinked. "Wait, _new_? Are you saying I already have one?"

"Of course," she said simply. "Ruth."

"And don't you dare complain," David pointed a finger at her. "Ruth is a perfectly normal, non-embarrassing name."

"I _have _a middle _name_?"

During all of this, Regina walked away. She'd gotten her revenge at last.

"What's going on?" Henry asked, August tailing behind him.

Emma jutted a finger at her mother, dodging Snow's hands as they tried to cover her mouth. "SNOW DORKUS WHITE!"

"THAT DOES IT!" Snow yelled. "YOUR NEW NAME IS EMMA….EMMA…EMMA FUKDA SWAN!"

"THAT'S NOT EVEN A REAL NAME!"

"Actually," David interjected. "In our land, it is. Unfortunately."

"My middle name is Daniel," Henry supplied. "What's your middle name, Gramps?"

"Don't have one," David said, crossing his arms and watching his wife and daughter bicker. "Peasants rarely did."

"Attention party people!" Ruby announced from the mic, slightly louder than before. "I know we are all having a kickass time, how about we make it better? I think this occasion calls for a very…special song."

Snow and Emma stopped their arguing in order to look up and find Ruby's eyes glued to them in the most ominous of ways.

"She wouldn't," Emma murmured.

Snow quirked an eyebrow. "She would."

Ruby handed one of the band members a CD, and he popped it into their stereo, and the pulsing beat of a song Snow and Emma knew very filled the air."

Ruby raised her glass. "Let's give our favorite heroines a hand!" Everyone cheered enthusiastically.

"No…" Emma shook her head. "Hell no. Not for all the alcohol in Maine. No."

"Snow and Emma! Snow and Emma!" Ruby chanted, followed quickly by David and Henry then everyone else.

"They won't quit till it happens," Snow said, tilting her head sideways at Emma and giving her that pesky wheedling expression that she was so damned good at.

"Come _on_, Em," David said.

"Yeah, Mom!" Henry exclaimed.

"She won't do it, Henry," Regina said. With a smirk. "She's too scared."

That. Did it.

"FINE!" Emma yelled. "But we're not doing this alone!" she grabbed her son and her dad and pulled them out behind her, knowing Snow was following eagerly. She accepted a cup offered by Jefferson and downed it in one gulp then stood beside her mom.

They exchanged a quick, serious nod, and then began their now familiar routine that would go down in infamy as "The White Swan."

_Oh baby baby, b-baby baby…_

David and Henry followed along with surprising ease, and they were soon joined by Ruby and Viktor, then the dwarfs, and Jefferson with Grace, and of course August who did everything wrong.

Before the second chorus the floor was packed. To everyone's astonishment even Gold was dragged out by Lacey. That astonishment was doubled when Gold proved that he could actually do the dance. Well.

"Come on, Mom!" Henry pleaded to Regina.

Regina shook her head. "I hardly think this pelvic thrusting is appropriate, Henry."

Hook hooked arm around her waist and started dragging her forward. "I thought you got those panties un-twisted! Come one, let me help."

Regina ended up accomplishing a few steps and head bobs. Henry was amazed.

Emma bumped her Mom's hips, and the enthusiastic return bump landed her squarely against Jefferson's chest. He made a vaguely sexual move toward her, winking, but then backed off when David glared at him, pointing to his eyes then back at Jefferson.

"Emma," Snow said, jerking her head, indicating Hook and Neal who were involved some kind of awful dance-off with one another. Neither of them could dance.

Emma gave her parents a cheeky grin then moved toward the men. Crossing her arms and being careful that she took both of their hands at the exact same time, she twirled under their arms, coming to stand in front of them, shimmying in the process. She then released them without a word, and returned to her family.

"Wait…who did she dance with first?" Neal asked, his face betraying his confusion.

"Me, of course!" Hook growled.

"No she didn't, she grabbed my hand first!"

"You don't know what you're talking about you git!"

Emma abandoned the practiced dance steps, as had most everyone else at that point and ran to take her mom's hand and her son's.

Henry's face was alight with pure joy, and Emma suspected her own face mirrored that.

They were all together, the entire family, and no one was fighting…well, no one was attempting to murder anyone else, and everyone was having the time of their lives.

Snow released Emma to allow her husband to wrap her in his arms. The look they gave each other could only be described as suggestive, but instead of rolling her eyes Emma grinned and made a mental note to send Henry home with August and invite Anton and the boys out for drinks after the party to give her parents some "alone" time.

Emma knew that everything wouldn't stay this carefree and peaceful forever, but for tonight she fully allowed herself to be happy. Happier than she'd ever been in her entire life.

She was convinced that she had the biggest, craziest, most messed up, _best_ family any orphan could ever dream of.

Emma wouldn't trade them for the world.


	14. Heirlooms

**I know, I know, I'm awful, I'm sorry. Truth is I think this one is winding down. I didn't really want to end it because I have some ideas for further one shots in this "universe" but I can't say for sure when I'll get to them since I'm working on a pretty long fic right now (Memories Keep You Near) along with a couple others I really should tend to. PLUS I have ANOTHER idea for a fic on top of all that...lol (It involves Emma, Snow and Charming having a bit of an adventure with a pendant that keeps taking them to different worlds and times a la Gargoyles. Interested?)**

**BUT...if you guys insist I could be persuaded into a epilogue, unless you think I should just keep this open to put more musical one shots as they come to me? Thanks so much for reading and for your patience! You guys have been AMAZING in your support. I can't believe this started as a one-shot and wound up being such a popular fic! I LOVE YOU GUYS!**

**And now, the ball comes to an end...**

* * *

The Storybrooke Spring Ball was beginning to wind down. Emma sort of wished that she could go back in time, for just one second, and tell herself when she was a scared child, or a miserable teenager, or a depressed adult just how purely happy she was going to be someday. To give herself something to look forward to.

She didn't wish too hard, because, hell, it might be possible.

She accepted Jefferson's hand again, no longer loath to dance, and maybe the alcohol helped but she liked to think it was just because she was having more fun than she she'd ever had.

She didn't even mind that her father was standing nearby the entire time, glaring distrustfully at her dance partner. In fact, though she'd never admit it aloud, she liked it.

"Aren't you glad I was right?" Jefferson teased. "About you and the curse I mean."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Don't push it, Hatter."

The gleam in his eyes only increased, and he pressed closer than necessary for the dance. "I thought you wanted for someone to 'push it.'"

She tried hard to glare at him, really she did, but he made it very difficult not to smile.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Emma glanced down to find Henry at her elbow, grinning cheekily. Jefferson bowed out immediately, and passed Emma's hand to the young man with a flourish that made Emma have to bite her lips again so not to smile at him.

"Until next time, Princess."

This time, she couldn't stop her lips from quirking up.

"Did your Gramps send you over here?" she asked her son once they resumed dancing.

"No…" he replied unconvincingly.

"Right," and yet even though he was meddling, she couldn't find it in her to be annoyed with her dad. Maybe if he kept at it, she would eventually, but for now how could she mind the opportunity to dance with the _true _love of her life?

"This was the best night ever," Henry said, and Emma smiled at how his eyelids drooped.

"Yeah it was, Kid."

"I like this, being all together, like how a family is _s'possed _to be."

"I think it's about time we had real family, huh Kid?"

For a moment they grinned at one another, less like mother and son and more like two abandoned kids who at long last had what they'd always dreamed of.

It felt wonderful.

"How could you let me walk out of the house like this?" Lacey was hissing to Gold as they walked past Emma and Henry.

"You guys headed out?" Emma asked, pausing in the dance.

Gold had a flushed, yet happy look on his face, but before he could answer Lacey was speaking up. "Yes, it's been fun but I've suddenly realized that I'm dressed like a harlot so we're heading home."

Emma eyed Lacey, catching the difference in the way she spoke and held herself. "…Belle?"

Belle's face broke into a grin, and she hugged Gold's arm tighter in both of hers. "Lacey was so…" she glanced uncertainly at Henry. "impressed by Rumple's dancing that she just wanted to kiss him, and just like that, I remember!"

David and Snow had walked up by this time, and David smirked at Gold. "Told ya so."

Gold rolled his eyes at him. "Yes, yes, you were right. I suppose I owe you one now. Are you ready, dearest?"

Though she was fully Belle, the look she gave Gold was wickedly Lacey. "Very ready."

Emma shared an uncomfortable look with her parents while they strolled away from the ball. "Well that was fun."

"I don't get it," Henry said.

"Never mind," all three adults said in unison.

They looked up when Ruby approached the microphone once again, tapping it to gain everyone's attention. "Well guys, it looks like our fairytale night is coming to a close, who thinks we should hear a few words from one of our fearless rulers, huh?"

The crowd, clapping in enthusiastic agreement, turned their eyes to the Charmings. When Emma realized just exactly what Ruby meant, her eyes widened and she hurriedly pressed a finger to her nose and looked at the rest of her family.

Picking up where Emma was going, Henry giggled and touched his own nose, nudging his grandfather. Frowning in confusion, David copied his daughter's and grandson's gestures, whispering, "Why are we doing this?"

Only then did Snow look over at them, finding three faces with fingers on the tops of noses. Having the memories of an Elementary school teacher, she knew exactly what that meant and she rolled her eyes. "Really?"

"Not it!" Emma exclaimed, both to reiterate her refusal to speak, and to explain to her father what he was doing. David smiled and sighed in relief.

Giving an indulgent smirk, Snow stepped confidently onto the stage, and Emma marveled at how steady and graceful she moved, knowing full well that her mom was still buzzed.

Ruby skipped away from the mic and Snow took her place, and once again Emma saw, instead of her bubbly, sweet natured best friend and mother, Snow White the leader. Poised, strong, benevolent, beautiful…everything Emma wanted to be. Maybe she was a little old to want to be like her mom when she grew up, but darn it if she didn't.

Snow delicately cleared her throat. "I want to thank you all coming tonight. I am so glad that we were able to have this; a night for just enjoyment and being together without…" she smiled and waved a hand. "well, you know. We should also all thank Ruby for coming up with the idea and pulling it off without a hitch!" Everyone gave Ruby a hand, to which she curtsied in response. Snow smiled warmly at her friend then continued. "I know the past year has had its share of challenges."

"That's a hell of an understatement!" Leroy exclaimed.

Snow shot him a playfully sardonic look. "Okay, the past year has been one giant pit of unending madness. But we've faced every challenge together, just as we will any new ones that come our way. We may be coming to a time of change, of decision. This could very well be the last time we all gathered together this way. I don't know what our futures will bring," she chuckled. "Hell, I don't even know what world I'll be in from one day to the next!" that made everyone laugh, though Emma thought Snow White saying 'hell' had the most to do with it. "But I do know this; I know that I have a family that will always be at my side, and my people who I will always cherish. So when the time comes and you decide whether to go to our land of birth or stay and immerse yourself fully into the world we've called home for the last three decades, know that we'll always be one people. One kingdom.

"We may be nothing but legend and folklore here, but our story, _this_ story is one that will be told for generations to come, in this land and the other. It will be the tale of family, striving to find one another, it will be the story of a hero…whether she wants it to be or not," she winked at Emma, gathering a good-humored chuckle from the crowd at Emma's expense. "It will be the story of redemption, of hope."

Emma saw Snow's eyes drift away from her family, to someone standing in the back. A peek showed that she was looking right at Regina, who was pretending not to listen. "It will be the story of forgiveness, of overcoming all obstacles. Long from now, we'll all be fables once again…bedtimes stories. But the truth will always be there, hidden in the hearts of those who believe. That we were real. And we were _here_."

Snow raised her glass, and for a moment Emma fumbled around for a glass of her own to raise until Jefferson slinked up beside her to press one into her hand.

"To our people," Snow concluded. "To Storybrooke!"

"To Storybrooke!" everyone echoed.

When Snow found her family again, Emma didn't bother to try and hide the look of admiration on her face.

Despite quiet offers to make herself and Henry scarce for the night, Snow insisted they all needed to get home, get their nice clothes '_put away and not on a chair!' _and get some sleep.

It took a while to make their goodbyes, and Emma tried her damnedest to not look over at Jefferson. Eventually he made his way back to her, and ignoring her parents glares, kissed her cheek goodnight.

Emma ignored the fact that it made her blush more than any kiss on her lips had.

Henry and Grace shared an adorably sweet and shy goodbye, too aware of their audience for more than a 'see ya later.'

After they'd said goodnight to everyone and helped Ashley find her missing shoe, David hooked his arm for his wife to take, Henry mimicked the pose for Emma, and they made their way out of their fairytale ball and to their cars.

Henry went with David in his truck, and Emma dragged her feet to Snow's Jeep, bone tired and ready to fall into bed.

"Emma, pick up your dress, don't let it drag."

"You're in front of me!" Emma exclaimed. "How did you know?"

"I'm your mother," she said simply. "Automatically means I know everything."

"Well, _I'm _a mother too!"

"But _I'm _a grandmother. Automatically makes me know more than you."

Emma glared at her back, even when she shot a cheeky grin over her shoulder.

They were quiet in the car, riding along in silence until Snow turned on the radio, mumbling something about needing to wake up more.

Emma wasn't listening to what was playing until she realized her mother was singing along.

"…am I gonna fit in? Jumped in the cab here I am for the first time, look to my right and I see the Hollywood sign…"

"OH GOD NO!" Emma jolted forward, switching the channel so violently she nearly broke the knob.

Snow frowned at her. "Hey…"

The song beginning on the next station caught Emma's attention, and hiding her smirk began to sing. "I'm not Snow White but I'm lost inside this forest, I'm not Red Riding Hood but I think the wolves have got me…"

Snow barked a laugh. "Believe it or not, cursed me loved this song!"

"Irony!"

So because it seemed necessary, and after all they were all alone, and on the verge of tired delirium, they began the loudest and most off key car karaoke either had ever known.

"You be the beast, and I'll be the beauty, beauty, who needs true love as long as you love me truly? I want it all but I want you more, will you wake me up boy, if I bite your poison apple?"

Snow banged on the steering wheel and Emma danced in her seat the way she hadn't since she was sixteen.

"I don't believe in fairytales! I don't believe in fairytales! I don't believe in fairytales, but I believe in you and me, take me to Wonderland…"

They had pulled into a parking spot at the apartment, but were still sitting in the car, belting to the top of their lungs.

"Take me ta', take me ta', take me to Wonderland!"

_Tap tap tap._

They froze, and Snow turned down the volume as David and Henry stared at them from outside the window. Henry had David's cell phone, taking a video.

"Ah, man, again?" Emma moaned.

Snow wrinkled her nose. "I have no regrets of having fun with my kid."

Emma wanted to make a joke about hardly being a 'kid', but then it sunk in that she, same age that they were, was someone's kid.

"This was fun," Emma said, determinedly forcing back emotion from her voice. "I know I complained in the beginning, but I'm glad we did it."

"Me too," Snow agreed. "I'll never forget tonight."

"Uh...Mom?"

"Yes?"

Emma fiddled with the strips of cloth on her skirt as Henry and David left to go inside, apparently bored now that they weren't being silly anymore. "Dav...Dad said something earlier, like he hadn't meant to...like that it was _my_ ball? What did he mean?"

Snow hesitated, biting her lip.

"Oh come on, what did he mean? Do I need to go wheedle it out of him?"

Snow chuckled. "No, it was a conversation we had...but I made him promise not to tell you. I didn't think you'd like it."

"I didn't think I'd like wearing a ball gown and have everyone staring at me. Well, I still don't like everyone staring at me, but I love the gown."

"Okay, okay," Snow reached into the backseat and produced a white box. "I thought about giving this to you, but I chickened out. I was worried it would embarrass you if I gave it to you in front of everyone."

Emma didn't admit that, whatever was in that box, it probably _would _have embarrassed her to receive it in front of everyone, especially considering the way her mother was holding it so tenderly. "We're not in front of everybody now..."

Snow smiled. "Nope. Emma, in...in our world...the one I grew up in, a..." she gave Emma a look that told her not to panic at her next choice of words. "A princess...well, when she reaches a certain age...she...well..."

Emma chuckled breathily, trying to ease her mother's nerves. "Is this the same Snow White that delivered such an eloquent speech only hours ago while still under the effects of alcohol?"

Snow laughed at herself. "Maybe I need more alcohol. I'm sorry...let me try again. "When I was a girl I was given a ball to introduce me to the kingdom as a princess. Sort of like a coming out ball. I was only a child, but I was to honor them, let them see the leader I would become. And yes, though my parents didn't believe in marrying their little girl off like some rulers did, I was to meet suitors."

"Good for your parents. You say all this like it never happened?"

She shrugged. "Well it didn't, not that way at least. My mother...she passed away. My ball was replaced with her funeral."

Emma barely knew what to say. Henry's book hadn't said anything about that. "Wow...that's awful...I'm so sorry."

"When I was pregnant I dreamed of giving you your ball, of making it everything mine wasn't. I would have given you this," she slowly opened the box, and Emma's eyes widened at the sight of the sparkling tiara nestled inside.

"This was my first crown. My mother gave it to me, and her mother gave it to her, and so on for as long as anyone can remember. One afternoon when I was preparing for the ball, before my mother got sick, I was horrible to my maid, Johanna when I caught her trying it on."

Emma made a face, trying to picture her mother being anything but perfect.

Snow caught the look and her lips quirked. "Sorry to dash your vision of me, but I'm afraid I could be quite a spoiled little brat back then. My mother was very upset with me because of my behavior and told me that being a leader meant being just and loving and treating others as equals," she reached into the box and carefully lifted up the crown. "She told me that this is heavier than it looks. I never forgot that, and never had anything been truer in my ears."

Emma gazed at the crown, swallowing in nervousness of what it meant. "Sounds like I would have liked your mom."

"Oh I think you would have too, you're so much like her, Emma. Fearless, fair, strong. And I just know she would have loved you."

"What was her name?"

At that Snow's eyes sparkled. "Her name was Eva. Except...you see she told me that when she was a little girl, she couldn't pronounce her "V"s very well, and so she couldn't say her own name correctly. Because of that, it stuck, and all of the people who knew her as a girl, all of her friends and even Father would call her by her nickname in private. Emma. She called herself Emma.

Emma blinked, barely believing what she was being told. "You named me after her?"

Snow nodded. "Yes, I did. I named you after the person only certain people were allowed to see, the warm, caring, funny woman people called Emma. On the outside, she was a bold, strong leader named Eva. You really are a lot like her."

Emma looked down at the crown still resting in her mother's hands. Snow followed her gaze and then lifted it up. "Is it okay?"

Swallowing tears, Emma nodded, twisting a little awkwardly in her seat to face her. Snow slowly placed the tiara on Emma's head then moved her hands down to frame her daughter's face. "It suits you."

She wanted to deny it, to vehemently deny that a crown suited her in any way, but the look in her mother's eyes prevented that. So she smiled. "It _is _pretty heavy."

Snow smiled back. "I know, but you get used to it. Sorry that this isn't much of a coronation. You deserve so much more, Emma, you deserve everything."

"I think this is perfect," Emma whispered. And to her it was. Sitting in her mom's car in their driveway, in the dark, music playing softly on the radio, and she'd just been given her mother's crown. It was perfect.

Snow nodded in agreement. "I want you to know, that while I want you to have this, you do _not _have to bear it. Meaning that while you _are _a princess, you don't have to rule. We don't know how our lives will end up, but however _you_ want _your _life to be is how it shall. Never think that this is something you have no choice in. That said, you...would make an _amazing_ queen."

Emma wanted to believe her, wanted to believe her so badly. But she couldn't...not just yet. However for the first time, she allowed herself to think, to dream, to wonder what being a princess would be like. And maybe someday, she _could_ believe it.

"I love you."

Snow gave a laughing sob and pulled her daughter into her arms. "I love you too, Emma. So very much."

Once they had themselves under control, they finally left the car and made their way inside. Snow offered Emma the box, but she shook her head and kept her tiara on it. Once inside, she gave the boys looks, daring them to mention it.

She went straight to her room, feeling too tired and emotional for any more words, and meticulously cleared a spot on her dresser so that her crown could be displayed properly. She'd never been sentimental, never cared much for things. Only her baby blanket had ever held any real value to her. Now her crown sat on her dresser, and her blanket was at home on her bed, and she had heirlooms that meant something to her and she had a family downstairs that she would die for. Yes, if she could go back in time, she would tell herself that she had a damn good life coming. And whatever the future held, good or bad, for the first time in her life, Emma embraced it with open arms.


End file.
